


Scenes from Three Lives

by die_traumerei



Series: The Triple Point [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Biting, Bottom!Bucky Barnes, Bruises, Canon Disabled Character, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Crying orgasm, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Drama, Good BDSM Etiquette, Grief, Kid!Fic, Lingerie, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Mourning, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Penetration, Nonbinary Character, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Coital Cuddling, Slice of Life, Spitroasting, Threesome - F/M/M, Topdrop, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, death occurred in the past, everyone talks about their feelings, mentions of past illness, top!peggy carter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-04 06:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/die_traumerei/pseuds/die_traumerei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little stories set in the Strike Gold Along This Shore 'verse; some during and some after the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Family Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> This will be updated...well, until I stop? Each chapter will be self-contained, though.
> 
> The first chapter is set during the story after they all get together.

**Peggy:** All right darlings, we haven't had a check-in in some time. Who's free tonight?

**Bucky:** Meeeeeeeeeeee

**Steve** : Not meeeeee :( Sorry guys, got a huge backpiece and this is the only time he can come in.

**Peggy** : Ok, how about tomorrow?

**Bucky** : I can make it work.

**Steve** : No you can't. Tuesday night is PT and you had feedback all weekend.

**Bucky** : Steve, I'm a fucking adult.

**Peggy** : Yes, and you're in pain and can't use your arm, and that is unacceptable.

**Bucky** : Ok, ok. Wednesday?

**Peggy** : I can do anytime after ten. (I know we're best in the evenings, but this is getting silly.)

**Steve** : I can do before three.

**Bucky** : I have a conference call at two. 10am on Wednesday?

**Steve** : Shit, no can do, I have a cardio appointment, if I reschedule it'll be for like fuckin' October or something.

**Bucky** : Peggy, I would just like to remind you that you chose this life and us two of your own free will.

**Peggy** : Hey, fuck off Barnes. Your inability to put away laundry is what drives me insane. Never, ever your health. Either of you.

**Bucky** : I love you Peggy.

**Peggy** : I love you too. Please fold your own goddamn underwear though.

**Bucky** : :*

**Steve** : Right, I made a Doodle poll in a vain attempt to save us from ourselves. LINK.

**Peggy** : I see we will all be in the same place at the same time sometime around 2017.

**Bucky** : WAIT NO.

**Bucky** : I am amazing.

**Bucky** : I am a ninja.

**Steve** : What even is my life

**Bucky** : I had a client move a meeting. Tomorrow. after dinner. I love you both more than the air I breathe.

**Peggy** : Oh my god.

**Steve** : Fair enough. Tomorrow after dinner, then.

**Peggy** : Truly, a miracle has occurred tonight.

 

Bucky stacked the last plate in the drying rack and drained the sink.  He topped up his glass of wine and went into the living room, where Steve and Peggy were already settled, Peggy on the sofa with a notebook and pen, and Steve on the huge beanbag chair someone had trashpicked for them. Bucky leaned over for his accustomed kiss with Peggy – and an extra one, because she liked the taste of wine in his mouth – then took his accustomed place snuggled up with Steve. 

All in all, he couldn't really complain about his life.

“Thanks for cleaning up,” Peggy said, and flipped to a new page in her notebook. “Right, this is the first time we've done this since we moved in together,” she mused, and smiled over at both of them, eyes going soft. “I love waking up with both of you every day.”

“It's amazing,” Bucky agreed. “I didn't know I missed having people around.”

“I like knowing that if I'm having a bad day, it's not all going to fall on one person,” Steve admitted, and Bucky kissed him tenderly.

“Which leads me to the health check-in. I'm all good,” she volunteered.

“I'm no worse than usual?” Steve suggested, and grinned at the dirty look she shot him. “Okay, _Jesus_. Um. Breathing is fine, hearing and vision are no worse. My heart sometimes feels a little funny so I've got the cardio appointment tomorrow and I'm gonna cut back on caffeine, but it doesn't feel serious at all.”

Peggy nodded. “Good. Mood-wise, love?”

Steve blushed. “I...I'm happy. It's been a good winter.”

“Good,” Bucky said softly, and shifted so Steve could lean against him.

“How was PT, sweet?” Peggy asked.

“Okay,” Bucky said carefully. “I'm to keep the arm off for the rest of the week, but she thinks I can start wearing it again this weekend. I do occasionally just need breaks,” he admitted. “And if I'm still getting the feedback we'll try some other things.” He hesitated. “I wanted to talk about that, actually.”

“What is it, baby?” Steve asked, squirming his arms around Bucky's waist. “You know we don't mind if you can't or don't want to wear the arm.”

Bucky sighed. “I know. That's part of it. I love that you're both fine with me either way – I really do. It means so much. But  _ don't _ tell me how to take care of myself, please?” he asked, looking between them. “Peg, I know you meant the best, and I'm not angry at you. But I  _ am _ an adult and I've dealt with the arm for three years now, and with not  _ having _ an arm for almost fourteen. I know when I can reschedule my appointments.”

Peggy had gone very red. “You're right. I'm so sorry. I didn't...I shouldn't have. I'm sorry.”

“Hey. Not angry, beautiful,” Bucky said gently. “Just please don't do that again?”

She nodded.

“Thank you,” Bucky said, and blew her a little kiss. “Steve, the same goes for you. I love that you really, honestly don't care how many arms I'm sporting at a given moment. But _I_ don't care either, to be honest. I got good at not having a prosthetic. Your heart is so good and in the right place, but you don't have to continuously reassure me. I get it. We can let it drop and take it as a given.”

Steve nodded, and kissed Bucky's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel awkward or anything.”

“I know,” Bucky assured him. “Just...it's okay. I'm not that delicate.”

Steve nodded slowly, and frowned. “Okay, but...you  _ hate _ talking about having cancer. You're pretty clearly not okay with revisiting that part of your life if you can help it. But you're okay with one arm?”

“Well, yeah,” Bucky said. “That was the past. It was a shitty, horrible time and I want it to stay in the past. But being an amputee...that's my _now_. I don't get to ignore it, so I'll damn well own it.”

“I think I get it,” Peggy said. “Love, do you ever _want_ to talk about being sick?”

“No,” Bucky said flatly. “I don't.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Peggy,” he said.

She took a deep breath. They had promised each other that they wouldn't fight in these check-ins. That they would be for talking about the good and the bad, but not for starting fights. They all argued so rarely – except for Steve – it was usually easy to follow. “I am sorry, love. But this is my business, in a way. I won't make you seek help or anything, but I'm worried about the way you shut down so completely. I worry that it will come back and bite you in the ass. And if you're not comfortable with me worrying over you, I worry how it will make you act and react to  _ me _ . And to Steve.”

Bucky's lips thinned. “That's fair,” he managed. “I imagine it looks awful from your point of view.” He was quiet for a long time, one fingertip idly tracing some stitching on the sleeve of Steve's shirt, tracing the lines over and over. “Okay,” he said finally. “I think I can put it into words.

“It all happened so fast. A matter of weeks. There's almost nothing to talk _about_ , to be honest. No months of chemo, nothing like that. A quick surgery. I went to sleep feeling basically normal and woke up...never normal-looking again,” he said quietly and physically put a hand over Steve's mouth. “For fuck's sake, I _know_ ,” he said, just short of snapping. “It's a setting on a washing machine I don't _care,_ you see how people stare at me and how little kids ask questions and stuff like that. No, it's not right, but it's what it _is_. And I started dealing with that when I was fifteen.” He took a deep breath, and visibly calmed himself.

“I had a lot of therapy afterwards, of course,” he added, talking to both of them at once. “For years. I talked a lot about how I _almost_ died,  but didn't. I talked more about the amputation and what it meant for me, how it affected me. Because that _is_ what affects me. Getting sick...that was a thing, and then it was over. It's _over_ darlings, and I'm cured and have been for a long time now. I don't like talking about it because it's just rehashing the same damn story, and it's _boring_. My now is more important to me.”

“I fucking love your now,” Peggy said, her voice wobbling, and Bucky held out his arm to her and she crossed the room and crawled on top of them, somehow finding space while Bucky held her close. “I fucking love it, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky smiled into her hair, and kissed the top of her head. “I'm okay,” he said. “Really, truly. I love you for worrying, though. Both of you.” He nudged Steve with his empty shoulder. “Check in with me, darling?”

“I...envy you,” Steve said slowly. “For being able to put the past in a jar, and leave it. I don't know if I can ever do that.”

“I'll never ask you to,” Bucky said. “This is, if you'll forgive the self-centeredness, for me and about me.”

Steve smiled at him, sad and tired. “Good. I really don't know if I could. But I believe you that you can. That it's the now that affects you. That you...can move forward. Have moved forward.” He nudged Bucky's shoulder back. “ C all me out, if I get too protective of you.”

“I will,” Bucky promised, and leaned in to kiss him. “I'll call you both out. No sense in letting it build up.”

Peggy nodded, but didn't move away,  and Steve rested his arm on her waist.

“You okay?” Bucky asked her softly. Peggy usually gently excused herself from physical affection during their check-ins, explaining once that it was all too much, that she needed _some_ kind of distance, just for that time.

Peggy nodded, and smiled sadly. “I'm sorry. Really, please forgive me? I know you being sick is in your past, but it's something...I don't think about it hardly ever, but when I do...”

Bucky hugged her tightly and moved so she could put her arms around him. “Oh, darling, forgiven. I'm right here. Just keep remembering that, okay?”

Peggy nodded, and managed a tired giggle. “'s nice, having you here all the time.”

“'s nice, being here all the time,” Bucky teased, and rested his head against Steve's shoulder. “It's nice, having both of you here. Love you.”

“Eh. You guys are okay,” Steve deadpanned, and grinned when this made his lovers laugh.

“What about you, baby?” Bucky asked Peggy, stroking her back. “Anything you need to bring up?”

“I wasn't kidding about you doing your own laundry,” she said, and gave him a little poke. “Seriously. With three of us, a messy bedroom isn't really a luxury we can afford.”

“Sorry,” Bucky said. “I really will do better, love.”

“Good.” Peggy closed her eyes, clearly settling in against Bucky. “Steve? Anything you need to bring up?”

“Not this time 'round,” Steve said. “I'm...things are so good,” he said softly, and smiled into the kiss Bucky gave him. “My brain is behaving itself.”

“Good,” Peggy said, and laughed when he curled up against her back. “So much for a serious meeting.”

“Yeah, 'cause we're so good at serious,” Bucky said. “Stevie, get my wine? And be my left hand for a moment?” he asked, batting his eyelashes.

Steve rolled his eyes, and reached for Bucky's wineglass, holding it for him as he sipped (“I am very busy holding my girlfriend, thank you.”), and then for Peggy (“I just like ordering you around, Steve.”) He had a tiny sip himself, and settled back down, enjoying a wine-flavoured kiss from each of his loves.

“Steve?” Bucky asked quietly. “Can I ask about...your heart, I guess?”

“I'm assuming this isn't metaphorical?” Steve grinned, and kissed Bucky's cheek. “Medical questions. Go.”

“How bad?” he blurted out, and wished he could reach his wineglass himself.

“Bucky, have you been worrying about this?”

“No. Yes? No?” Bucky shrugged. “I mean, yeah, I worry a little. Just...it's gotten worse lately? It feels like?”

Steve slipped his arm around Bucky's shoulders and turned his head for a soft kiss. “Oh, baby.”

“Don't you oh baby me. Just answer the question.”

Steve smiled, and kissed Bucky between the eyes. “The quick answer is that it's not that bad anymore. My heart's never going to be in _great_ shape, but it's okay with drugs and after the surgery. I guess I might need a transplant someday, but that's not certain. And the meds keep getting better.”

“Just don't go anywhere on me,” Bucky muttered, and yelped when he found himself rapidly buried under both lovers.

“I'm not going _anywhere_ ,” Steve promised, and kissed Bucky hard. “I swear, I _swear_.”

“Yeah, if he dies, I get to track his ghost down and trap it on earth for all time,” Peggy said. “We worked this out ages ago, Barnes.”

Bucky laughed, and rested his head on Steve's shoulder. “Okay, okay. I'm sorry, I don't mean to nag, or worry or anything like that. Just.” He shrugged. “I'm sort of fond of you.”

“Yeah, you're okay yourself.” Steve kissed him again, soft and openmouthed. “I love you too, Buck.”

“Was it really bad? Before your surgery?” Bucky asked softly.

“Yeah. It kinda was, baby.”

“Okay.” Bucky took a deep breath. “Peg, I think I suddenly get you. And me. And my having had cancer.”

Peggy smiled, and secretly reveled in the fact that she was the one who got Bucky's arm around her. “I'm sorry then, love.” She sighed, and closed her eyes. “I like this. All three of us squished together onto a piece of furniture meant for one person.”

“Is that a hint to move to the bed?” Bucky asked, bemused.

“Hell no. I want to stay like this as long as we can stand it.”

“Could be awhile, Peg,” Steve said softly.

“Like I care.” Peggy turned her head just enough to kiss Bucky's collarbone, relaxing a little bit more when he squeezed her waist. “Loves.”

“Love you too,” Bucky murmured. “Shh, now. You've got us, darling.”

Peggy just nodded, and let herself enjoy being pressed so close to both of them, the way they were holding each other tightly too, all three of them against the world.

 


	2. The morning after the night before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy, Bucky, and some of the harder parts of a D/s dynamic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was previously posted to my tumblr. I held onto it, planning to write more, but it seems to be a good story just in and of itself.

Peggy realized she was crying about halfway through rubbing arnica cream on the bruises that dappled Bucky's back and thighs.

“What's wrong? Oh, no. Oh, love.” Bucky rolled over and pulled Peggy into his arms, nuzzling her hairline. “Beautiful, beautiful, it's okay. Everything is okay.”

Peggy shook her head and cried harder, and hated herself for it.

“Shhh, yes, it is. Shhh, now, love, my poor darling. It's just a lot of emotion. You're not alone, Peggy-love,” Bucky murmured nonsense to her, kissed her brow, called her his wife and frowned when this didn't get a response. (Everything was still so new – the reminder that they were pledged for life was a kind of get-out-of-a-fight-free card, and they all abused it freely. So far Steve had cried the most, to the surprise of exactly no one.) “Beautiful, you're scaring me. Look at me, Peggy.”

That got her to look up, and Bucky stroked her hair, the longest he'd seen it and all tumbled down her back. “There we are. Breathe with me, darling. Come on, deep breaths. That's it, love, that's it.”

Peggy slowly stopped crying, and Bucky, thank God, stopped petting and kissing her, just held her steady and breathed deep and slow so she could match him.

“Talk to me,” he said, after she'd been calm just long enough to get embarrassed.

“I'm fine.”

“...I am not going to dignify that with a response.”

That got a weak chuckle out of her, and Peggy tucked herself a little closer. Bucky wasn't a terribly big man, but he was taller than her, and broader of shoulder, and she felt safe squished up against him. Which was dumb, but it was a morning to be stupid.

“'m sorry. I don't get top drop, honest.”

“Uh huh.” Bucky squeezed her waist with his hand. “Poor love, I'm so sorry. We're taking off work today, okay?”

“I guess.” She made a face.

“You're a martyr to me, you are,” Bucky teased. “Hold on, and I'll go put my arm on and start the coffee. Curl up all good and warm – there, that's my girl.” He kissed her on the cheek and she closed her eyes and just listened. He pulled on sweatpants, and slipped his arm on – she heard the quiet whirr that was only audible in its absence – and she heard him walk out through the living room, heard the stove go on. The little domestic noises helped, and she could sit and think. Bucky was unlikely to take 'I'm okay' as truth the second time either.

He came back with coffee, strong and dark and sweet, and sat beside her against the headboard, letting her decide how close she would get.

“I didn't know I was a sadist,” she finally blurted out.

“Neither did I,” Bucky said, raising an eyebrow.

“I liked hurting you last night.”

“Good. I liked being hurt.” Bucky slipped his hand into hers. “Oh, love. That doesn't make you a sadist. And if it does, then I guess I'm a masochist. You didn't do anything to me that I didn't want. And I love that you could give me that.”

Peggy bit her lip. “I loved it last night. But this morning, seeing all the bruises on you...Bucky, I _hurt_ you.”

“Do you want to hurt me now?” he asked.

“No! Oh my God, no!” She set her coffee aside and turned to face him, squeezing his hands. “Dear God, is that what you think?”

“Not in the least, actually, I just wanted to make a point,” he said, and pulled her in for a hug. “You don't want to hurt me. You liked it, but only in a very particular set of circumstances. And I agreed to those circumstances, and we both knew the risks, and consented.”

“I just...I don't want to be a person who loves watching someone I care so much about in pain.”

“Oh, baby.” Bucky kissed her softly. “We never, ever have to do that again. But I love what we had. Is it just the fact that I'm marked up?”

“A little,” she said slowly. “But...I liked how it felt. To strike you."

“Why?” Bucky asked.

She was quiet for a long time, her head resting on his shoulder. “A lot of reasons,” she finally said. “It just...felt good. Physically. To know I'm strong enough to do that to you. Aesthetically...” she shuddered. “Oh, God. Aesthetically, it was perfect. Everything was perfect. You were...exquisite.”

“Thank you. Back to you please.”

Peggy laughed a little. “Um. I liked knowing that I'd get to comfort you later. Cuddle you and kiss you and help you feel better. I liked that you'd let me do that, that you'd  _need_ me to take care of you.”

Bucky gave a little shiver. “I like that part a lot too. Where I earn it.”

“You earn it by existing,” she said absently, still thinking hard. “I like...the power. I mean, that's why I like domming you. You give me so much power.”

“That's the most amazing part of subbing,” Bucky offered quietly. “Darling, these are all very good reasons, but if you feel bad about inflicting pain...”

“No. I feel bad that I _like_ it,” she corrected him. “Which is a lot harder.”

Bucky nodded. “What if you could have the other stuff, without hurting me? If you could physically dominate me, if you could have the aesthetics. If you did some body-worship maybe? For the comforting?”

Peggy made a face and Bucky laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I gotta earn it. We could always roleplay.” He smiled at her and laid his head on her shoulder. “I'm your poor injured  soldier-boy and you're my nurse who's got to help me get better.”

Peggy shook her head quickly. “No. Not right now, anyway.” She ran her hand along his thigh and the thick scar there. “A little too close to home, right now.”

“Oh, Peg.” Bucky kissed her, long and sweet. “Sorry. Maybe in like thirty or forty years when I'm not scared half out of my mind about you.”

Peggy pinched him. “ _I_ didn't need a transfusion.”

“Sorry? Again?” Bucky kissed her cheek. He apologized, on average, once a week for scaring them so badly. He was getting very good at it. “I don't think we have to worry too much about you getting off on the thought of me suffering outside of playtime.”

She conceded his point. “I still...I don't know. I  _want_ to take the riding crop to you again.” She  smiled . “I want to feel it raise bruises, want to see how your cock jerks when I land a smack just right...”

Bucky shivered. “Oh, fuck. I want that too.” He tilted his head to one side. “What if Steve is there?”

“Huh?”

“If Steve is present. He can stop you, if you go too far.” Bucky grinned. “And he goddamn loves it, too. Marking me up, I mean. Might make you feel a little less weird?”

“I don't know,” Peggy admitted. “I'm willing to try, though?” She stole Bucky's mug and took a sip of his coffee. “It makes us both happy. That should be enough.”

“Not everything's that easy, love, you know that.”

“It _should be_ ,” she insisted, and Bucky laughed out loud.

“God, no wonder you and Steve got married. No one else in the world believes so much in a total lack of shades of gray.”

“What's your excuse, then?” she challenged.

Bucky shrugged. “Rent's cheap when you split it three ways.”

“That is such a New York answer, I cannot even,” Peggy informed him, and made a face when he stole his coffee back.

“Your mug is exactly two feet behind you, Carter.”

“Yeah, but then I'd have to let go of you.”

It was very nearly too easy, to get Bucky to give  his coffee up to her .

 


	3. Pretty is as pretty does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super thanks to shinylady1122 for helping me figure out how to get down the images in my head into words :)

Bucky woke up from a nap (yet _another_ nap God all they did was sleep these days) to Peggy cussing a blue streak.

“Mmmph?”

“I am shit at being left-handed.”

Bucky opened their eyes to Peggy seated at the vanity they shared, lipstick in one hand, shaky crimson on her top lip. “Oh, baby.”

And then Peggy's eyes _filled with tears_ and oh holy fuck no. Bucky wasn't quite up to what they wanted to do – spring up out of bed and cross the room and gather their girl close – but they managed to scoot to the end of the bed and hold their arms out.

“This is so _stupid_. We almost died, and I'm crying over _lipstick_.”

“This is delayed shock,” Bucky informed her, gathering her into their lap, careful of the thick bandages around their thigh. “Oh, Peg. You could've asked, I'd do your face.”

“You were asleep,” she said, very studiously not crying into Bucky's shoulder.

“You've never had trouble waking me up before.” Bucky tilted her chin up and kissed her, then kissed her again. “Hah, see. Now it looks messy for a reason.”

Peggy groaned and gave them a little shove. “You're not helping.”

“Yeah, but I can.” Bucky sighed, and hugged her tightly. “I feel gross too. Fuck this being hurt.”

“Indeed.” Peggy kissed their cheek. “I hate this. I hate seeing you hurt.”

“So let's not. We should do something ridiculous and luxurious and, I dunno, lie around in silk underwear and do each others hair or something.” Bucky sighed. “It's so stupid when...well. But I just want to be _pretty_ for a bit.”

Peggy smiled and kissed their cheek. “Go get comfortable then, and I'll get your prettiest clothes. And mine.”

“Look in my top drawer?” Bucky requested, soft and shy. “Green silk.”

“Oooh, yes please!” Peggy giggled and jumped up, tears forgotten, and retrieved the little scraps of cloth. “Bucky, when did you get these?”

“Awhile ago. I was going to surprise you.” They had planned to show them off in concert with the little silver rings lying in their jewelry box, but, well. That would come soon enough too.

“They're beautiful. Here.” She brought them over to the bed and helped them get off their old sweatpants and a t-shirt 'borrowed' from Steve.

“I dunno. Um.” Bucky let her slip the chemise over their head, even though nothing was wrong with _their_ arms. Nothing more than usual, anyway, as he informed her and she groaned and smacked him.

“Just for that, I get to feel your legs up.”

“Be my guest,” Bucky said, making a face, and Peggy very clearly did, caressing their bared thigh as she eased the silky knickers over the heavy dressing covering Bucky's right leg just over their knee.

“Enjoy yourself?”

“Yes, actually,” Peggy said, and preened a little. And groped their ass.

Bucky gave in and laughed. They were blushing at the same time, though, and looked hesitant.

“You look beautiful,” Peggy said softly, and cupped their face with her free hand. “You're my Bucky, and you deserve to feel stunning.”

Bucky smiled, and leaned in to kiss her. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

“I refuse to answer that. It'd be too mushy.” Peggy laughed and kissed them back. “Help me get changed, lover?”

Bucky helped her slip out of the old day-dress and into the dark silk nightgown he and Steve had bought for her months ago, another time when she'd been hurt and needed cheering up. They eased the soft, lacy strap over her shoulder, and kissed the very edge of the dressing there. “Love.”

“Sweetheart.” Peggy leaned in for another kiss. “Please, will you do my makeup?”

“Yes, but only if you promise to not kiss it all off within the hour,” Bucky teased, and totally belied their words by leaning in and kissing Peggy, deep and sweet. They opened their mouth, soft and good and tasted their girl, tongues chasing, mouths together, breath shared.

“God, you can kiss,” Peggy said, a little breathless. “I never did forgive Steve for getting to you first.”

Bucky laughed out loud, and pulled Peggy close again, for another of those amazing, breathless kisses. “You're just going to have to outdo him in volume, then,” they teased.

“I can do that.” Peggy smiled, and nuzzled Bucky's cheek. “I'll get my things for you, darling.”

“Please.” Bucky settled themselves on the bed, sitting up against a pile of pillows and feeling regal. And kind of ridiculous, but Peggy's eyes were soft when she returned to the bed, and Bucky opened their arms so she could nuzzle close for a moment.

“Hi,” they murmured, and she giggled and kissed the curve of their neck.

“You're so perfect,” she whispered, and Bucky hugged her tightly, so careful of their battered girl.

“Flatterer. C'mon, sit in the light – like that.” They started with a wipe, taking off the smeary lipstick and powder; better to start clean. “Beautiful.” A kiss above each eye.

Peggy mostly skipped foundation unless she had spots, so Bucky started with a little powder, just to even her skin out, brushing it across her face with the big poufy brush. Next was eyes – a soft smoke gray, and sweet cats-eye liner. They were justifiably proud of the little flicks, and the precision it took to get them the same size and angle. Bucky went for mascara next, resting their hand gently on Peggy's cheek to give her already-thick lashes a little extra oomph.

“Stunning,” they assured her, and put on just a little blush. Peggy was too pale, from injury and worry, and Bucky privately vowed to get Steve to take her out, even just for a walk. They weren't terribly mobile yet themself, but that shouldn't stop their lovers. And wouldn't.

“There,” they said softly, adding the red to the apples of their cheeks. “My pretty girl.” And, of course, scarlet lipstick, applied and blotted and sealed with the lightest of kisses. “How's my work?” they asked, and showed her a hand mirror.

Peggy's smile was slow and sweet as sunrise. “Bucky, thank you! Your work is stunning. Of course.” She leaned in and kissed their cheek. “I promise to return the favor when I'm better.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Bucky threatened, and shifted a little, easing the tightness in their leg. “Feel better?”

“Yes. So much.” She ran her fingers along their side. “Thank you. Can I do anything for you?”

Bucky shrugged. “Make my body heal faster?”

“If I could, I would.” She kissed their brow. “Poor love. Truly, what can I do to pamper you a little?”

“Pretty much already doing it,” Bucky pointed out. “Lie here with me for a little bit?” They stretched and sighed, and touched their own belly. “Do I really not look like a twit?”

“Bucky, you look beautiful,” Peggy said seriously. “Stop it. Don't be afraid of yourself, please, darling? I love my Bucky so. I wish you could know, and love your gentle, gorgeous self as much as Steve and I do.”

Bucky flushed, and closed their eyes. “I'm trying,” they whispered, and softened in Peggy's hands as she kissed them.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Peggy murmured to them, and kissed one cheek, then the other, high up and close to Bucky's eyes. “My God, but you're pretty.” Another kiss on their collarbone, nuzzling the delicate skin that outlined the bones there. “My beautiful Bucky, delicate and strong.” A tender kiss for their metal shoulder. “I can't even...there aren't words.” Nuzzling their tummy. “Pretty Bucky. You should wear silk all the time, and I'll keep you in my bed forever.” Mouthing one nipple, then the other. “Nice tits.”

Bucky burst out laughing at that, and gathered Peggy close to kiss her soundly. “Thanks. I'm pretty proud of my rack too.”

Peggy giggled, and nuzzled their chest. “I wasn't kidding. Well, I was, but I really do love your chest.” She mouthed a nipple again, leaving a wet spot in the silk. “My sexy one.”

Bucky made a soft, breathy sound, and leaned into Peggy's touch. “God, you make me feel...”

“Nope. You make yourself feel like this,” Peggy said. “I just help.” She kissed the line of lace running along Bucky's chest, nuzzling the soft swell of muscle there. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.”

Bucky smiled, feeling a little dizzy, and lay back against the pillows, kissing Peggy lazily, groping her bottom. Neither of them felt up to much, but it was nice to make out, caress and kiss. Bucky slipped their hand up Peggy's nightgown and fingered her, relaxed and with no real goal. She sighed happily, but didn't demand further; pain, and pain medication, did a lot to kill a sex drive.

 

“Thank you, Lord.” Steve said from the doorway, a good hour or more later, and he sounded like he meant it.

Bucky grinned, and lowered their eyelashes. “Hey,” they said, voice light and breathy, and wow. They had not known that it was possible to watch someone else's pupils rapidly expand.

“Steve.” Peggy turned onto her side, one leg thrown over Bucky's good leg. They had decided her sling was far too ugly for the day, and replaced it with one of her embroidered shawls, the ends tied together. It was a dark green silk, and matched them both perfectly.

“There is no one else in this city – no, this _world_ – as lucky as I am,” Steve said seriously, dropping his bag and crossing the room to the bed _very_ quickly. “My God.”

Bucky laughed, and undulated on the bed. There was no other word for it.

Peggy arched her back, pushing her chest up, and Bucky obliged by kissing one breast, then the other, nuzzling his face into the soft skin.

If Steve hadn't _actually_ swallowed his tongue, it sure sounded like it.

“Aren't they beautiful? Steve, tell them they're beautiful,” Peggy demanded, gliding her hand along Bucky's hip, thumb rubbing on the soft silk there.

“Oh God. Uh. Oh. Oh, _Bucky_.” That was about the best Steve could manage, but Bucky forgave him. Especially when he reached out, fingertips barely touching the lace edge that wrapped around Bucky's thigh. He stroked it softly, almost reverentially, then moved to touch Peggy's silk gown just as lightly.

“I think we broke him,” Bucky said, bemused and touched.

“I do think you're right,” Peggy said smugly.

“Not broke,” Steve said, his voice distant. “Made whole.”

Well, that was the rest of the day fucked, then.


	4. In Which Bucky And Foggy Win At Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAUUUNNNGHHHHHHHH you guys I have the most incredible writer's block and ughhhhhh. So here, have a little short I wrote a million years ago, to make us all feel better.

“Holy shit! Bucky! Hey, Bucky!”

“Foggy!” Bucky yelled across the bar, and the two of them dodged tables and drunkards to meet in a huge hug in front of God and everybody.

“Oh my God, how are you?” Foggy asked, hands still clasped around Bucky's shoulders. “I'm so so sorry I never called, my phone got fucked like three days later and I had to get a new one.”

Bucky laughed, and pulled him in for another hug. “'s'okay dude, I get it. How're you doing?”

“Good, good. Oh, hey! Meet my boyfriend. _Matt_ ,” Foggy said, emphasizing the name and giving Bucky a meaningful look, and Bucky attempted to not swallow his tongue when one of the more gorgeous men he'd ever seen turned and smiled more or less in his direction. The dark glasses and just-visible cane explained that.

“Hey. Bucky Barnes, good to meet you,” he said, leaning over and shaking Matt's hand. “Uh. I'm here with my partners too – hang on, I'll go get them and we can catch up,” he promised, and turned around to wave Steve and Peggy over.

“Would these be the two you were pining over a year ago?” Foggy asked, almost quietly.

“Yeah.” Bucky couldn't keep the pride out of his voice. “Yeah, it worked out in the end.”

“Good,” Foggy said, very firmly, and then there was another round of introductions, and a round of drinks, courtesy Peggy.

“Hey, I'm glad things worked out for you,” Bucky said, _actually_ quietly, while Matt, Steve and Peggy all got into an argument about the exact degree to which the Mets were doomed this year, and how it was okay because the Phillies were _even further_ doomed.

“Me too.” Foggy said, and his grin was something to behold. “Matt is...”

“Dude, I can see it on your face,” Bucky said, and gave him a nudge. “I'm happy for you.”

“For you too,” Foggy said quickly, even as a blush started to spread. “They're fantastic. You look...really happy.”

“I am,” Bucky admitted. “It took a little doing, and it still does. But we make it work.”

“Yeah.” Foggy grinned. “Hey, how've you been otherwise?”

“Okay. We got caught up in the whole Chitauri thing so we've been recovering from that – hey, hey, it's okay! Nothing bad!” Bucky insisted, as Foggy actually went _white_ in front of him. He noticed Matt's head snap around too – huh, weird. Maybe he could hear them, even over the sound of the bar.

“Holy shit,” Foggy said, reaching out to wrap his hand around Bucky's arm. “Fuck. Fuck. I would have found you, if I'd guessed...I hoped you were safe in Brooklyn. I should have...fuck, I'm so sorry.”

“Foggy, it's all right,” Bucky soothed. “My friend Nat and my sister helped keep us going when we needed it. And nothing we couldn't heal from, I promise. I _promise_ ,” he repeated, when Foggy just stared at him. “Steve broke his arm, Peggy's shoulder got a little fucked up, and I will have a bitchin' scar on my leg until I die. I promise, that's all.”

“Okay,” Foggy said. “But I'm giving you my number before you go. Matt and I can be across the river before you know what's hit you.”

“Deal. Though I'll use it more to annoy you into getting a drink with me,” Bucky threatened.

“Not gonna complain,” Foggy said, finally relaxing back into his chair. “I had an awesome night out with you, that time.”

“Me too,” Bucky said, and grinned at him. “Dude. We have the hottest lovers.”

Foggy started laughing so hard he could barely high-five Bucky. “We win.”

“You okay over there?” Matt called, clearly bemused.

“We're fine,” Foggy said around snickers. “Just congratulating ourselves on winning at life.”

“Steve's rolling his eyes,” Peggy told Matt helpfully.

“So am I,” he assured her in return.


	5. Sarah and the Mystery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by hanging out with my cousin a few months ago. You guys, kids are the coolest.

Sarah Rebecca Rogers-Barnes had a _mystery_ to solve.

And not some boring dumb mystery like Nancy Drew. This was more like the really complicated mysteries with Lord Peter that she watched with Mummy and Papa on rainy Saturday mornings. (Mummy had assured both of them that there were mysteries, _written ones_ , that had a lot more Harriet in them. Papa and Sarah were planning to read them together when Sarah was a little older.)

This was a Grown-Up Mystery.

It had started when she was eating breakfast before school on Friday, and had asked her parents if she would lose one of her arms when she got older, so she looked like Papa. And if she did, when? And could she get a cool metal arm too? Like Papa?

All three of them had frozen in place, which usually meant that she had asked something very grown-up, and Sarah felt very mature. Well, she was _eight and a half_ _whole years old_ , of course she was grown-up sometimes.

Papa's face had gone pale, and they knelt down beside her chair. (Papa's hair was up and they were wearing a pretty, flowy dress, so they were _they_ ; easy-peasy lemon-squeezy.) “Did someone tell you that would happen, Sarah-bear?” they asked.

“ _No_. But I look like Mummy and Daddy, so I should look like you too, right?”

Papa smiled softly at that. “It doesn't really work that way, pretty girl. And it doesn't work that way with arms, either.”

Sarah nodded seriously, because this was a very mature talk. “But I want to look like you too.”

Daddy put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “There's other ways to do that, sweetheart. You two can dress alike, or we can cut your hair to look like Papa's if you like?”

“ _Yeah!_ ” Papa's hair was soft and fuzzy _and_ long and pretty and silky and Sarah was like one million percent in favor of this plan. “Now?”

Mummy laughed and sat down just behind Papa. “We don't really have time now. But you, my love, need a trim,” she told Papa, stroking the short hair on  the sides of their head. “Maybe today after school?”

“ _Please_?” Sarah grinned her best grin at Papa. “We'll match!”

“I would _love_ to match you,” Papa assured her, and held out their arms so Sarah could give them a big hug. She was little for her age, so still fit comfortably in their lap. 

“But I won't lose one of my arms?”

Papa's arms tightened around her . “No,” they said and kissed the top of her head. “You won't, little love.”

Sarah frowned. “But other people only have one arm too. I've seen them!”

“That's true,” Papa said. “But it's...it's not a good thing. It happens because people get sick, or hurt very badly. And I don't want that to happen to you.”

But that meant _something_ _bad_ _had happened to Papa_. And they looked so sad, and so worried, she just wrapped her arms around their neck and hugged them tightly. “I still wanna look like you,” she whispered in their ear, and Papa kissed her cheek.

“I wanna look like you too,” they whispered back. “But Mummy will help with that, okay?”

Sarah nodded, and rested her head on Papa's shoulder for a moment, petting the hard metal of their arm. Poor, poor Papa. What had _happened?_ She couldn't ask them, that would just hurt them _more_. And whatever hurt Papa hurt Daddy and Mummy, she was sure of it.

This was a _mystery_ , and she was going to have to solve it. Find out what happened to Papa. Make it better. Maybe she could get their arm back even! Although the metal arm was pretty cool. And she liked to trace the big scar on their shoulder, when they didn't wear their arm. Papa giggled and said it tickled a little, and that usually meant a tickle fight which Mummy always won because Mummy fought the dirtiest of all of them.

Sarah would be very sorry to lose her silly tickle fights, but Papa would have two arms (maybe?), and the bad thing wouldn't matter anymore, and that was way more important.

It was time to go to school then. Mummy checked Sarah's hearing aids and Papa helped her with her jacket and bookbag and they and Mummy kissed her and hugged her goodbye, since it was Daddy's day to walk her to school.

She and Daddy played I Spy the whole way to school, and Sarah _creamed_ him. But she remembered her mystery the whole time.

During library time she asked the librarian where she could find books about people losing arms.

The librarian blinked. “Well, that's a pretty big subject,” she said carefully. “Why do you want to know about that, honey?”

Sarah didn't like being called honey by other people. It was okay when Daddy did it, but he was basically the only one.

“My Papa has one arm,” she informed her. “I want to know why.”

“That's probably something that's best to ask him,” the librarian said, because she didn't know that Papa was a _they_ today, but some people couldn't be helped.

“I want to know.”

There was no one in the world more stubborn than Sarah. Her mummy had told her so.

The librarian smiled, and found her a book about people with disabilities, like Sarah didn't know _all about that._ But it did help a little bit, and she read about people who were called _amputees_. (Except that wasn't _people-first language_ , as Sarah informed the librarian, who smiled very, very big and promised she would find a better book, and added that Sarah was a really smart girl.) She read about prosthetics, none of which were as cool as Papa's metal arm. She would have to tell Mr. Stark next time she saw him. And then it was time for math class, but Sarah checked the book out and planned to study it during free period.

She read a little more then, but it didn't really solve her mystery, other than the fact that she couldn't get Papa's arm back for him. Which she had kind of known already; if that was possible, she was absolutely certain that Papa and Mummy and Daddy would have done so.

She learned that it was rude to ask questions, and was glad she hadn't. She learned that people with disabilities were just like everyone else which, you know, _duh_. She learned that it was okay to hug and play and all that, which _triple duh_ who was that dumb? Papa was awesome to play with. Sarah and all her friends knew _that_.

Sarah was not enormously impressed with the book. But it did give her some clues, which were important in solving mysteries. She confirmed that Papa could have gotten sick, or gotten really hurt. She knew they hadn't been a soldier, so that was out. She knew that they hadn't had two arms for a really long time – they had their metal arm in the sketch Daddy had done right after they met, the one that was on the bookcase in the living room. And that was like a _million_ years ago.

She kept a little list of all her clues, written in the back of her notebook. Lord Peter wrote down clues too, and so did dumb Nancy Drew.

Mummy picked her up from school, and gave her an extra-big hug, so _something_ was going on.

“Can you cut mine and Papa's hair now?” Sarah asked as they walked home together. This was her way to make sure Papa was safe at home, and also that she could have really fun hair.

“I absolutely can,” Mummy promised. “Papa's really excited about it.”

“Me too,” Sarah said firmly.

“Tell me two new things you learned in school,” Mummy said.

Sarah thought for a whole block. “I learned that the librarian thinks I'm a smart girl,” she finally offered. “And I learned that Jem has a big brother.”

“Sounds good,” Mummy said. “I got a text from the librarian about how smart you are,” she added.

Hm. Sarah had not counted on this. “Uh huh.”

“She said you might be worried about your Papa,” Mummy said.

Sarah started swinging her arm, so Mummy had to swing too.

“You know Papa's very happy, and they love you very much, Sarah-bear.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. _Quadruple-duh_ _._

“Would it be easier to ask me some questions?” Mummy asked softly.

“'s rude to ask,” Sarah offered, turning to look at some pretty flowers on someone's front stoop.

“Well...sometimes,” Mummy admitted. “You don't ask strangers. But you can ask me and Papa and Daddy anything.”

Well, it wasn't as fun as finding clues, but Sarah would rather solve the mystery. That was the most important part. “Will it make Papa sad? To ask?”

“No.” Mummy was very firm. “ They want you to ask, rather than worrying about it. It's better that way, you know?” she said, sounding a little distant for a moment. “It's better to share things you're worried about, or sad about. Or even just curious. I like hearing what you're curious about,” she said, voice going back to her usual Mummy-voice.

Sarah nodded, looking up at the bright blue sky. “I'll ask Papa after my snack,” she decided.

“That sounds good,” Mummy agreed.

Well, so much for the mystery. But she had  _ tried _ ! And they had apples and peanut butter for a snack, which was pretty great.

Mummy had to do a little work, but promised to cut hers and Papa's hair once she was done, so Sarah curled up on the sofa with Papa. They had taken off their metal arm, and she snuggled into their side,  resting her head on their shoulder .

“Mummy said you had some questions for me?” Papa said, tickling her tummy a little bit.

“Why'd you lose your arm?” she asked, because if there was one thing Sarah Rebecca Rogers-Barnes  _ wasn't _ , it was afraid of  anything .

Papa kissed her forehead. “When I was much, much younger, I got very sick. There was a sickness in my arm, called cancer, and the only way to make it better was for a doctor to do surgery, and remove my whole arm,” they told her. “And then I was all better.”

“Will you get sick again?” Sarah asked, very quietly, and Papa gave her a  _ really big hug _ . 

“Not with that,” they assured her. “I'm really all better, and I'll be around and healthy and with you for a long, long,  _ long _ time.”

“Will I get cancer?”

Papa swallowed hard, and was quiet for a very long time. “I don't know,” they said. “I hope not. I pray that you won't, Sarah-bear,” they said quietly. “I don't think you will. It's a really rare thing, and you're a super-healthy little girl. But will you promise me something?”

“Uh huh.”

“I mean a real, big-girl promise,” Papa said. “Can you promise me that you won't worry about something like that? Let me and Daddy and Mummy  worry about things like that. Promise me you'll just be my little girl, and not be afraid of getting sick?”

“Okay,” she said slowly. What a weird promise. 

“And promise me that if you are afraid, you'll tell me?” Papa asked, and snuggled her close. “I want to know. And I'll do everything I can to make it better, okay?”

Sarah smiled.  _ That _ she could do. “I promise.”

“My good girl,” Papa said, and kissed her forehead. “Do you have any other questions?”

“Uh huh.” Sarah  said, because she had millions . “Did it hurt?”

“A little bit, after the surgery. Not very much, though,” Papa said.

“Were you scared?”

“Yeah,” Papa said softly. “I was. It turned out okay, though.”

Sarah nodded,  and thought about all the things she had learned. Her mystery...was solved, she guessed. 

“I wanted to see if I could get you your arm back,” she mumbled. “I can't, though.”

“No, little love,” Papa said, and their voice sounded funny. “You can't, but I love you so, so, so much for wanting to.” They hugged her so tight it almost hurt. “I don't want anything other than what I've got,” they whispered to her. “I've got my little love, and I've got Mummy and Daddy, and that's all I want.”

Sarah nodded, and hugged Papa back, just as hard as she could, and held on for a long time, because she could.

She heard Mummy come in, and then Mummy was hugging them both, and that was  _ almost _ the best, because the absolute best was when all three of her parents were hugging her, but she bet that would happen later, when Daddy got home from work.

“What do you say, Sarah-bear?” Papa asked, and kissed the top of her head. “Ready to get your hair cut?”

“ _ Yeah _ !” Sarah wriggled free and got down from the sofa. “Mummy, me first!”

Mummy laughed, and kissed Papa's cheek. “You first,” she agreed. “Into the bathroom with you, my dear.”

“I'll be right in,” Papa promised.

It was the coolest afternoon  _ ever _ . Mummy did Sarah's hair, then Papa's, and they  _ totally matched _ . And then they got pizza for dinner and Mummy helped with her homework and Daddy came home and said her hair looked super-awesome and took a lot of pictures of her and Papa read her  _ three _ bedtime stories and tucked her in and then Mummy and Daddy and Papa all kissed her good-night and said she looked really cool with her new haircut and all the kids would be totally jealous.

“When can I get stars?” Sarah asked as she fell asleep. All three of her parents had lots of tattoos, but they all had stars that Daddy had done.

“When you are a  _ lot _ older,” Daddy said firmly. “Eighteen, Sarah-bear, and not one minute before.”

“Awwww,” she whined, already half-asleep.

“I'll draw one on your arm tomorrow with a marker,” he promised, and Sarah sighed heavily, and fell asleep. She had had a very  long day.

 

Steve found Bucky and Peggy in the kitchen, whisky bottle already out. “She wanted to know when she could get a tattoo,” he informed them, before pouring himself a generous tot. And then topped up Bucky's glass.

They smiled, and saluted Steve. “I guess that's good.”

“Definitely good,” Peggy agreed, putting Bucky's hair into a soft, loose braid for bedtime. “Check in with me, love.”

“I'm so scared I've fucked our daughter up,” Bucky confessed. “If she's scared of getting cancer, if...”

“Then we'll deal with it together,” Steve said firmly. “You didn't fuck her up, love. I don't think you could.” He reached over and wrapped his hand around Bucky's just for a moment. “She's a curious, intelligent little girl and you answered her questions and made sure she felt  safe . No one could do better.”

Bucky closed their eyes and smiled. “Thanks. Sorry. Just...yeah.” They sighed and leaned back against Peggy.

“Helluva day,” Peggy agreed, her hands coming down to rub Bucky's shoulders. “ You were a star, Bucky.”

Bucky smiled a little, and shrugged. “So were you.” He  smiled wider , and opened his eyes. “ You guys. She wanted to see if she could give me my arm back. This is who we've raised.”

“Oh my God.” Steve rubbed his face. “We're doing okay. If that's what she wanted...we're doing okay.”

“How is this my life?” Bucky mused out loud, reaching for Steve, leaning back against Peggy.

Peggy just laughed, and kissed the top of their head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this -- I had so much fun writing it!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	6. Lux Aeterna Luceat Eis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm already in a bit of a Mood because my blues dance got cancelled tonight, so what better time to post my Pissy Fic?
> 
> The only negative feedback I've consistently gotten about the original Strike Gold Along This Shore is people under the impression that Bucky and Peggy want Steve to stop mourning his mother and get over her death. (Interestingly, this carries with it the idea that Bucky and Peggy are both infallible and make no mistakes, which, no.) This has hit me surprisingly hard, and I hope the original story doesn't show that -- rather, that Bucky was drunk and upset, and Peggy is worried that Steve is harming himself rather than mourning. And that they were both a little bit wrong, and everyone could have dealt with the situation better. That they care deeply about Steve.
> 
> So I got pissy and wrote this.
> 
> And it carries with it an extra author's note: please, please, please, if you have recently lost someone and feel that meditating upon this would be hurtful, don't read this story. Don't read it and decide that everyone in it is stupid and ruin both our nights. It's okay. (There's a FANTASTIC series where Bucky is a ballet dancer with bulimia and I can never re-read or read any more of it because I start flipping out about consuming food and have vivid dreams about purging. Because that's my shit, and it's not healthy for me to read that story. That's okay.) I will write other stories for you. You can contact me here or on Tumblr and request a story and I will write it for you with all my love and sorrow for your loss, and understanding that some shit just ain't happening. Please don't hurt yourselves further just for fanfic.

Steve shoved his hands in his pockets, and started walking home, the wind raw around him. It was the worst of early spring, where there was a tease of warmer weather to come, but actually all was gray and cold and biting.

Peggy had been kind enough to leave him alone that morning, and he was pretty sure she'd pulled Bucky aside to explain, so he got to have solitude, at least. This didn't get shared with _anyone_.

He stayed, as usual, exactly three hours at the cemetery before starting the long walk home. This early on a raw Sunday morning, things were as quiet as they ever got, and this was New fuckin' York. Even if there had been a million people to notice the tears on his face, no one would have said anything.

No wonder Steve never planned to move.

He let himself into the apartment, and braced himself for...well, Peggy knew how to be with him on days like this. Bucky  _meant_ well, just. If anyone tried to comfort Steve, he would break into a million pieces. If Bucky tried to soothe him by saying it would get better...well, it would just be best if Steve left then for a few hours.

“Hey.” Bucky was in the kitchen, doing the dishes. “There's a pot of tea on if you want some, love.”

“Thanks.” Steve poured himself a cup. “I guess Peggy talked to you.”

“Mmmhmm.” Bucky hesitated, then dried his hand off – Steve hadn't even noticed he wasn't wearing his prosthetic. “Can I...” He trailed off, then started again. “Let me know if you want more to drink, I'll put the kettle on.”

Steve smiled a little at that. “Bucky, I'm not going to snap at you over  offering me a drink .”

“I just...I want to be what will help you the most. I _know_ I can't make this better, no human can. But I don't know what to do, and I'm afraid if I just ignore it, that's just as bad.” Bucky squeezed his eyes closed. “Just wanna love you.”

“Oh, baby.” Steve crossed the room and he and Bucky wrapped their arms around each other. Steve was being held just as much as he was holding. “Wanna be loved,” he mumbled.

Bucky tightened his arm for a moment. “I wish I was like Peggy. She knows what you need.”

“Really? I just want you to be my Bucky.” Steve sighed and rested his head on Bucky's shoulder. “'m sorry. I fuck everything up around this.”

“Shut up! You don't.” Bucky's voice was strong and sure. “ _I_ do. Or, I guess, I don't understand. I can't.” He rested his hand on the back of Steve's head. “I'm still furious at myself for how I was. You have every right to mourn however you want.”

“Not if it hurts people I love.”

“Not if it hurts you too much,” Bucky countered. “That's all Peg and I worry about, you know?” He pressed a little closer. “Ugh, sorry. I wish I could hug you better.”

“This is okay,” Steve said quietly.

Bucky nodded, hand still warm on Steve's head. “I love you,” he murmured. “I'm so, so sorry baby. I wish I could have known her.”

“She would have _loved_ you,” Steve said into Bucky's shoulder. Okay. This was okay. He and Bucky sometimes talked past each other, but...this was good. “Handsome, charming man? God, she'd have adopted you.  Or maybe married you.”

Bucky chuckled at that. “It would have been an honor,” he said. “ She was a beautiful lady, Steve.”

“Lady my ass. You should've heard her cuss.”

Bucky giggled at that, his lips just next to Steve's ear. “She's a lady in my eyes. Anyone who could keep from killin' you for that long, that's an amazing lady right there.”

Steve laughed, and lifted Bucky up a little in a tight hug. “She'd agree with that.”

Bucky giggled again. “She raised you. I can only imagine how amazing she is.”

“Aw, Buck.”

“Don't you aw me. Someone had to teach you to be so righteous and loving and good.” A soft, barely-there kiss on Steve's cheek. “I didn't even know her and I miss her.”

Steve felt something move in his chest. “She was my  _mom_ . I miss her so much...” 

“Yeah.” Bucky's voice was raw, but he didn't say any more, just held Steve while he cried a little.

“She was so cool. Fuckin' hard when she needed to be, but...Bucky, I was the most incredible pain in the ass to raise, for so many reasons. But she'd just handle it all. When I was in the hospital she'd sleep next to me, then wake up and go across town to work a shift, then come right back. She gave everything for me and I never got a chance to give _back_.” Once he'd started speaking, the words just poured out.

“Oh, baby. I promise you, you gave back,” Bucky murmured. “I absolutely promise. She loved you so, so much.”

Steve coughed, and hid his eyes in Bucky's shoulder. “'s what she said...”

Bucky didn't say anything, thank God. Steve wasn't even sure if he'd properly communicated that that was the  _last_ thing his mother had said to him.  Probably best to not explain that.

He wasn't sure how long they stood there, Bucky holding him gently while he cried, then talked, then cried some more. An hour? More? But his lover just stayed, occasionally making encouraging sounds, apologizing again for not understanding before. For making this harder on Steve.

Bucky might have cried a little too; he wasn't sure.

His tea was cold, of course, when they finally slipped apart, and Bucky set about making a new pot, pouring a  fresh cup for Steve and handing it over with a  shy kiss.

“Thanks.” Steve felt...warmed. Yeah, warmed. “'m sorry I'm so selfish.”

“You're not, baby, don't ever think that,” Bucky said, pausing to rub Steve's shoulders. “This is a hard time for you. Take care of you, and I'll take care of you as much as I can, and so will Peggy, and we'll get through it. That's not selfishness, love.”

Steve rested his head on Bucky's waist. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “I don't...this was...thanks.”

“Love you.” Bucky kissed his head, and went back to finish the dishes.

 

Peggy came home later that day and found him reading on the sofa. She leaned over to kiss his forehead, and he had the great joy of surprising her with a real kiss.

“Hullo you,” she said, and knelt by the sofa. “How was it?” she asked, more softly.

Steve shrugged. “As ever. Thanks for talking to Bucky about it.”

“Of course. Is he out, by the way?”

Steve nodded. “He found a yoga class specifically for amputees, and went to try it out.”

“Oh, nice.” She rested one hand on his chest. “Was he...okay?”

Steve smiled. “We didn't fight, if that's what you're worried about. He was...really good, actually. We talked a little, hugged a lot, then he left me alone.” He rested his hand over Peggy's. “You both indulge me too much.”

“Bite your tongue.” Peggy leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You know what you need. I only worry when it hurts you too much.”

Steve frowned. “It's not a scale, I can't rate it like that. Or feel it like that.”

Peggy made a frustrated noise. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm bad with...everything.”

“Yeah, that's why you've got a husband and a boyfriend who are devoted to you,” Steve said dryly, and sat up, turning so Peggy could sit beside him. And so he could wrap his arms around her. “I think you understand better than anyone,” he said softly.

“Oh my God, don't wish that on other people.” Peggy pressed her lips to his forehead. “My darling. I love you.”

Steve closed his eyes and smiled. “We need to spend more time like this. I missed it.”

“Me too.” Peggy rocked them back against the sofa so that Steve lay atop her, the two of them sprawled a little across the cushions. “Is there really nothing I can do?” she whispered, holding him.

“This is fine. Perfect.” Steve turned his head enough to kiss her chest. “My lovers are better to me than I deserve.”

“Shut your fucking mouth. We're exactly as good to you as you deserve.” Peggy stroked his hair. “I'm sorry I don't understand, love.”

“I don't need you to understand. Just...to be there. Love me. Call me out if I really need it but...just be, most of the time.” Steve half-smiled. “I'm sorry, I know it's hard, all of this. Bucky was driving himself crazy, not sure what to do or how to be with me.”

“However hard it is for me, it's worse for you.” Peggy sighed. “I'm better at problems you solve by punching.”

Steve laughed at that, and snuggled a little closer, pressing his face into the curve of Peggy's neck. “Too bad you can't punch grief in the balls.”

“If I could, I would.” She started to stroke his back. “I love you so,” she whispered. “I can't do anything but that, can I?”

“Wouldn't want anything else,” Steve said, and meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	7. Happy Families are Wonderful and Tolstoy was a Dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think the chapter title broadly covers it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some more kid!fic! Because Bucky being a loving, awesome, tender father is my everything.

“You were there when I was born, right?” Sarah asked. She and Bucky were lying on their stomachs under the Christmas tree, coloring in Sarah's new books, with her also-new crayons.

“Uh huh. I caught you, when you came out of Mummy,” Bucky said. “Pass me the green? Thanks, sweetie.”

“Y'r welcome.” Sarah carefully colored in an orange star. “Did you like me?”

“I _loved_ you,” Bucky said firmly, and gave a little tug on her pigtail. “What makes you ask that?”

Sarah shrugged, and started coloring a new page. “Jus' curious.”

Bucky's foot she was just curious. He knew enough to just stay quiet, and let Sarah come around to it in her own time.

“Mummy and Daddy made me, right? It was Daddy's seed?” she asked, after they'd traded crayons a few times.

“Uh huh. That's why you look so much like both of them,” Bucky said.

Sarah nodded, and colored particularly hard at one page.

“Sweetie-pie, what's worrying you?” Bucky asked softly. “I love you so, _so_ much. You're my daughter, right?”

Sarah nodded furiously. “An' you're my Papa.” She looked up at him and bit her lip. “Are you married to Mummy and Daddy?”

“Yes,” Bucky said, deciding that the _legality_ of their marriage could wait to be explained another day. “We gave each other rings. See?” He held out his right hand, and she touched the silver band.

“Why don't you have a gold one too like Mummy and Daddy? Do they love you less?” she asked, face creasing in worry.

“Not at all!” Christ, Bucky could _feel_ Steve twitch from here at the very notion of it. “They were married to each other first, and keep their wedding rings, because that's very special to them. And to me! I'm so, so happy they had each other for years before I even met them.”

“But then _you_ were alone!” Sarah wailed, and broke a crayon.

“Hey, hey. C'mere, sweetheart.” Bucky sat up and pulled Sarah into his lap for a cuddle. She was small for a ten-year-old, and still fit easily. “Honey, is that what you're worried about? I wasn't alone at all. I had so many friends, and I had Auntie Becca, and I dated other people. I wasn't lonely at all, I _promise_. And then I met your Mummy and Daddy, and we made a little family. And then we had _you_ , and our family got so much better.”

Sarah nodded, her head resting on his shoulder, and Bucky held her a little tighter. “And you're gonna stay forever?”

“Forever and ever and ever,” Bucky promised.

Sarah was quiet a little longer, and Bucky foolishly thought they might be past the difficult questions portion of the day.

“Jimmy S. says his Mom's new boyfriend doesn't like him very much.”

“Well, that's a little bit different,” Bucky allowed, making a mental note to invite Jimmy S. over for playtime soon, just to keep an eye on the poor kid. “A lot different, actually. I've been your Papa your whole life, and always will be.” He smiled and leaned over to kiss Sarah's forehead. “And even if I had just met you and Mummy and Daddy yesterday, I would like you a _lot_.”

“But why doesn't Ryan like Jimmy S.? He's so cool!”

“He is,” Bucky said. “ _I_ like Jimmy S too. I don't know what's going through Ryan's head, and that's kind of his business. I think the best thing you can do is be a really good friend for Jimmy S. Make sure he _knows_ you think he's really cool.”

“Kay. Can I invite him over for dinner on Saturday?”

“I'll check with your other parents, but I don't see why not.” Bucky smiled, and kissed the top of her head. “You're a really good friend, Sarah-bear.”

She just shrugged, and shoved her hair out of her face, mimicking Steve so perfectly Bucky's heart hurt a little bit. “Can we color again?”

“We can do whatever you want,” Bucky promised, and gave her one last big hug before they went back to coloring under the Christmas tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	8. Happy Birthday, Bucky!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh God. Oh God. I can't even look myself in the eye. You think I've written gratuitous paens to love and affection and fluff before? YOU KNOW NOTHING. This is 1200 words of disgusting love, be forewarned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Bucky Barnes' 99th birthday, I wrote the grossest ficlet ever.

“Come on, it's _totally_ adorable.”

“It's not adorable, it's weird.”

“It's adorable.” Bucky pinched Steve's cheek. Then the cheek that wasn't on his face. “You're adorable.”

“Are you _drunk_?” Steve asked, and laughed when Bucky paused, thought, then nodded. “Right, your opinion is void.”

“Stop bein' mean to our boyfriend,” Peggy scolded Steve, and took another healthy drink from the bottle of wine they were all passing around. “Although Steve's right, it's not adorable.”

“It is completely adorable that you guys' anniversary is the same day as my birthday,” Bucky argued. He took the bottle from Peggy, necked it, and passed it on to Steve. It was a week after Valentines Day, and they'd all had to be out in freezing rain and sleet and snow for various errands that couldn't be put off for another day. All three returned home soaked and shivering, and Steve had declared hot showers, takeout pizza, and drinking cheap wine naked in bed to be the only cure.

“We didn't even have a wedding! We just went to City Hall.” Peggy blew a raspberry on Bucky's tummy, then pinched the spot.

“Ow,” Bucky said companionably. “And I know. But you married for love. And I love _your_ love for each other.”

Predictably, Peggy made a gagging noise, and Steve melted.

“I love _you_ ,” he murmured, and kissed under Bucky's ear, passing the wine bottle off to Peggy.

“Sweetheart.” Bucky kissed his forehead. “Love you too. What do you guys wanna do? You get first dibs on the day.”

“We _want_ to celebrate your birthday!” Peggy declared from where she'd pillowed her head on Bucky's stomach.

“We don't usually do anything,” Steve admitted. “Sorry.”

Bucky punched him lightly. “Right, let's make a deal. You guys can plan something for my birthday, and I'll plan something for your anniversary.”

“No,” Peggy said, and pushed herself up. “You're a darling, but I don't want separate stuff.” She leaned over and kissed him, lingering, tongue dipping into Bucky's mouth and his jaw dropping, giving her access. “I want all three of us. The way it is now. Want something special, but for _all_ of us.”

“Oh, Peg,” Bucky whispered, and touched her cheek.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, voice gone a little rough. “We're in it together.” He leaned over and kissed first Peggy, then Bucky, deep and sweet. “Love you.”

Bucky grinned up at his lovers, and stole the bottle of wine back, taking a healthy swallow. “God, I'm glad I decided to dick around on that fountain.”

“I'm even glad you landed on me,” Peggy teased, settling back to lie on Bucky's tummy.

Steve took a healthy swallow of the wine and handed it off. “I didn't have to suffer at all. I win!”

Bucky giggled, curling up when he started laughing and couldn't stop, not helped at all by the way his lovers started tickling him. He yelped and wriggled, twisting and turning to try and get away from them, but as soon as he was protected from one, the other went in.

They only let up when Bucky was gasping for breath, tears running down his face from laughing so hard. He stayed curled up, giggling and catching his breath, easing only when Peggy moved so his head was in her lap, and Steve was stroking his back.

“Cutie,” Steve accused, and leaned over to kiss his ear. “Love you so much.”

Bucky smiled, eyes closed and clearly in a state of bliss. “Love you too.” His smile only grew when Peggy joined Steve in petting him. He was spoilt and coddled and loved, and refused to feel guilty about it.

 

March 10th that year was gray, rainy and foul, more or less exactly as Bucky had expected. (Every few years they got a beautiful early-spring day, but had learned not to plan for that.) Maybe that was why, instead of getting up to make pancakes like they had planned to do, no really for real, they rolled over and snuggled back into the warm bed.

(Their heating bill had been hilariously low, and Bucky put it all down to Steve, the human space heater. Bucky had traditionally been granted the middle of the bed, because they had won completely at life, but with the depths of winter, Steve was summarily pushed to the center so that Bucky and Peggy could mold themselves around his warmth.)

They had _meant_ to get up and do something special, but the siren call of Steve's chest had kept him in bed and sent them back to sleep, which was why it was _Peggy_ , that devious woman, who got the drop on them and actually managed to sneak out and get pastries for all of them.

“You're _cold_ ,” Steve accused when she came in to wake them up, and he sat up and folded her hands between his. “ _Peg_.”

She laughed and kissed him. “I'm not going die from going into the elements for ten minutes.”

“Get in here with us,” Bucky ordered sleepily, and hauled her between themself and Steve. She wound up squished between them, giggling, while Steve pressed kisses to her face.

Bucky smiled and settled down at her back, more than happy to watch his lovers cuddle and kiss. Good God, the way Peggy just _looked_ at Steve, like she'd taken her heart outside of her body and made it into a person. In a million years, Bucky would never get over how they clearly, openly felt about each other.

“Hi,” she said softly, and tilted her chin up a long kiss from Steve, who wrapped his arms around her. Peggy wasn't a particularly petite woman, but she was nearly swallowed up in Steve's big embrace.

Bucky smiled, and fought sleepiness to keep watching them, the way they fit together perfectly, comfort born of long years. They didn't like to hope too much but wondered, maybe, if the day would come that _they_ fit so easily with either of their lovers, with both of them. If they'd melt into someone's arms that comfortably.

(They would never get over being loved by the two best people in the world. Ever.)

They watched Peggy and Steve neck, very happy to be a bit of a voyeur, because really. Sooner rather than later, though, Peggy turned over and pulled them into a hug.

“Happy birthday, Bucky,” she said, and kissed them.

“Oh, honey.” They kissed her back. “Happy anniversary, both of you.” A little nuzzle for Steve. “Still they/them, by the way.”

Steve leaned over Peggy and kissed Bucky soundly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Bucky smiled, and pressed a kiss to the soft curve where Peggy's throat turned into her shoulder. “Thanks for breakfast. I'm too lazy.”

“No, you're being spoiled on your birthday, that's a totally different thing,” Peggy scolded. “And you will be spoiled, my dear.”

“Like I haven't been already,” Bucky informed her, head pillowed on her shoulder. “I'm still making us all dinner, and you can't stop me.”

“You're pretty much the best cook of all of us, so....yeah,” Steve admitted, and laughed when Peggy elbowed him. “C'mon, let's go eat. Then we can make out some more.”

Bucky heartily approved of this plan for the day, and let Steve know, before gently extracting themself from Peggy, stealing Steve's hoodie as protection against the chilly early-spring air, and padding into the kitchen to start the coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	9. Ink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How can I have gone so long without a new story for these three???

“Good?” Steve asked, as Bucky craned his neck around, trying to look at his back in the mirror. He wound up turning so he could see the backs of his shoulders, one side then the other. A nautical star on his left (twin to the one on the back of Steve's shoulder) and a lush rose in full bloom on his right (matching the one on Peggy's hip). Steve had cautioned that they might not get past the outlining that day, depending on how long it took, but Bucky was determined to finish them both. A blue star, a red rose; the symbols of his lovers.

“Good,” Bucky confirmed. The star was visible even when he had his prosthetic on, the only thing he had worried even a little about. Going off of that, Steve had placed the rose to be symmetrical; they were over his shoulder blades rather than his shoulders as he'd originially planned, but would be beautiful nonetheless.

“Awesome. Okay, babe, just sit down and lean forward. I know you know the drill, but we'll take a break at least once an hour, more if you need it,” Steve said. “If you get lightheaded or anything, let me know right away.”

“I've got cookies in my bag,” Bucky said. “Just in case.” He slipped his prosthetic off – they and Bucky's doctor had determined that the nerves in his shoulder would have quite enough to deal with – and folded it up into his backpack, an action that he and Steve both never failed to find equally weird and kind of funny.

(Steve, of course, knew how to safely take the prosthetic off and even put it on Bucky if needed, but he admitted that it wigged him out if he handled it too much. “I'm so used to it being your _arm_ ,” he tried to explain. “If I touch it, you respond, you hold my hand or move your forearm or something. When it's not on you, it's dead metal and it's _weird_.” After that, Bucky had shelved his plan to prank Steve by tucking the prosthetic around him some morning. Also, kisses. And caressing Steve's face with his left hand. And more kisses. And a handjob, because he was a completist who believed in taking care of his husband, which included sexually exhausting him, don't give me that look Peggy.)

“Good man,” Steve praised, and set about prepping his station. There was clean white paper over the massage chair that Bucky draped himself over, and Steve set up a few sheets of paper towel on his tray. He set the needles in place, prepped the black ink for the outlines, and snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves.

“Last chance to back out,” he said, and Bucky laughed.

“Never. Go for it, love.”

“Okay. Breathe, baby,” Steve cautioned, and Bucky took a deep breath, and let it out slowly as the buzzing started up, and the hot scratch of the needle on his skin began.

Steve worked for a few minutes in silence, while Bucky counted his breaths, relaxing as he he got used to the pain, as it faded to a sharp buzz, just the occasional scratch now and then.

“Good?” Steve asked softly, and Bucky caught his breath again. Steve was right up against his back, his hand warm where it rested on Bucky's back, the other wiping away excess ink and a little blood. Steve had started on his left side, and when it was resting, his left hand cupped Bucky's shoulder, familiar and comfortable.

“Good,” Bucky confirmed, and smiled, relaxing into the chair. “Really good.”

“Awesome. You're doing great, honey.” Steve traced the outlines of the stencil, laying down the black outline of the star. “This side'll be quick, love.”

“S'okay,” Bucky sighed, relaxing into the buzz, only tensing now and again. “It doesn't feel too different from when you did my hip, honest.”

“ _Good_. You've got so much going on in this shoulder, I don't want to chance it being bad for you.”

“Oh, Stevie.” Bucky melted under his husband's hands, as much as the admitted pain of the tattoo would let him. (And oh God, would he ever stop shivering a little, even just inside, at the thought of Steve being his husband? No, no he would not.) “It's not, at all. Honest, I'd probably even be fine with my arm on.”

“I know.” Steve sounded bashful and also like Bucky would be kissing him as soon as they didn't have to keep a sterile environment. “But I also know you get feedback and you got ghost pain before the prosthetic and you get muscle cramps and...yeah. Pain can evoke memories, and I don't want to chance giving you a flashback, or triggering something in you.”

“Steve,” Bucky said softly. “It's okay. I'll tell you if something starts to really hurt, I promise.” He smiled a little. “I can't wait to hug you, by the way.”

“Sap,” Steve teased gently. “Next break, love.” He patted Bucky's shoulder gently. “Did the actual amputation hurt at all?” he asked, voice curious.

“Kinda? I mean, obviously there was some unavoidable trauma, and stitches and stuff. I was pretty heavily medicated.” Bucky smiled. “With the good stuff, too, so I don't remember much.”

Steve chuckled. “Good.” He gave Bucky's shoulder a little squeeze, the white-hot pain vanishing to a warm ache as the needle traced the lines.

“Did your heart surgery hurt?” Bucky asked a few minutes later. There was something insanely relaxing about this – maybe it was because this was his Steve so close to him, or the comfy massage chair, or the quiet music Steve had put on.

“Uh huh. I mean, not the actual surgery, I was obviously out for that. But when I woke up, yeah.”

Bucky made a soft sound.

“Hey, don't be sad, baby. It hurt while my breastbone and the skin healed, but I was so much better I honestly didn't care.” Steve's smile was audible in his voice. “And then _all_ the pain was gone – well, related to my heart – and it was amazing.”

“Okay!” Bucky protested, smiling. “Just. Yeah. Peggy was there, right?” he asked. “To help you?”

“Yeah, love, she was,” Steve assured him. “Her bedside manner, as you know, is terrible, but she was there.”

Bucky laughed out loud at that. “I know. It bucks you up, though, pardon the pun.”

“I will not, that was terrible.” Steve set the tattoo gun down and wiped Bucky's shoulder off, smearing it was vaseline. “That's one outline done, sweetheart. Do you need a break?”

“Nah, I'm fine. This is actually really peaceful.”

“I know what you mean,” Steve agreed. “Here, beautiful, get up and turn the chair around so I can get your other side – there.” He stole a very quick kiss while he helped Bucky stand up, and then settled him back in place, stool and tray next to his right shoulder now. Steve quickly switched out new gloves and settled into place, starting to outline the rose. “Breathe for me, gorgeous – there, you're doing great,” he praised. “It's startling, isn't it? You're fine, love, your body'll adjust in a few minutes.”

It didn't, though, and Bucky – a little to his shame – had to ask for a break. Steve helped him stand up and walked him out to the waiting area where he could have a bottle of water and eat a cookie. He had braced himself for Steve to be worrisome and a little overwhelming, but his husband was easy, low-key and teasing. Warm, but not overbearing, and Bucky felt his body even out after the second cookie.

“Honestly, Bucky, this isn't that unusual,” Steve promised, once he was settled back in the chair and Steve was back at work, continuing the outline. “That shield on my back? No lie, I almost passed out three times and I had to take breaks, like, every half-hour, especially when she was going over my spine.”

“ _Ow_ ,” Bucky observed, but he was smiling again. “Steve, how did I not know you have an amazing bedside manner, by the way?”

“It only kicks in here,” Steve admitted. “Outside the shop, I am a pain in the ass, and I know it.”

Bucky giggled. “You just...care. A lot.”

“And I drive you and Peg crazy, I _know_.” Steve paused and Bucky looked over at him, the two of the smiling at each other. “You and Peggy are my world, love. Of course I go a little crazy over you.”

“Oh, Stevie,” Bucky said softly. “I love you.”

“I know, Buck. Love you too. Hold still now – good, you're looking great,” he assured Bucky. “It's easier in here, you know? This is my place, my passion, and I know I'll give you – give anyone – my absolute best.”

“You're amazing, you know that, right?”

Steve chuckled. “You're high on endorphins.”

“Yeah. You're still amazing, though.” Bucky smiled and rested his cheek on the padded part of the chair. “Love you.”

“Love you too, baby. Feeling okay?”

“Mmmhmm. Sorry I went weird.”

“You didn't, Buck. I told you, sometimes it just hits people that way.” Steve patted his back, still tracing the outlines. “We'll see how you are when I'm done this, if we need to add color and shading another time.”

“Kay.” Bucky let the pain and the warmth of Steve settle in his bones, feeling happy and safe. Steve worked steadily, the two of them comfortable in the silence, and he finished outline of the rose. He helped Bucky stand up slowly, and then go over to the mirror, checking each stark outline as best he could. The lines were sharp, his skin red and puffy around them, but their beauty was obvious.

“Steve, they're perfect. Thank you so much.” Bucky was practically glowing.

“You're perfect,” Steve teased. “Want me to take a picture?”

“Please?” Bucky laughed and stretched a little, carefully, then held still while Steve took a few pictures with both their phones. “Are you sure you don't mind saving the color for next time?”

“Of course not, don't you dare ask that,” Steve chided, resting his hand on Bucky's lower back. “Love, your comfort comes first.”

“Yeah, but you set aside a big chunk of time for me, and you won't even let me _pay_ you,” Bucky tried to argue.

“Hush,” Steve ordered, and smiled a little, pressing a kiss to Bucky's shoulder. “Hey, Buck. What pronouns are you on?”

“Male, why?” Bucky laughed when Steve snapped the elastic of his satin knickers – his jeans had ridden down when he stretched. “Oh, sorry. Nah, I just really need to do laundry.”

“For your sake, I'm gonna pray that those are yours and not Peggy's,” Steve teased.

Bucky giggled again, and held still while Steve applied the dressings to his new ink. “They are, I promise. Oh, thanks.” Steve helped him slide his shirt on and buttoned it up for him, in between another kiss or three. He pinned the loose sleeve up, and looked at Bucky critically.

“I'm walking you home,” he decided, and Bucky didn't argue.

“I don't know why I feel so wobbly,” he admitted. “I'm really sorry, Steve.”

“Shhh, don't be,” he scolded gently. “I know you ate enough today and you slept well last night – sometimes it just hits people. Take a nap, in case you're coming down with a cold or something.”

Bucky nodded, and snuggled into Steve's side as he did the minimum of cleaning and locked the shop up temporarily. At least they lived close by; it wouldn't take long for Steve to drop him off at home.

Of course, he hadn't accounted for Steve being...very Steve, outside the safe confines of the store. Which meant Steve helping him into bed, taking his boots off, getting a glass of orange juice and generally gently fussing until Bucky literally pretended to be asleep, possum-like, so that Steve would go back to work.

It took all of his will to stay that way when Steve kissed his temple and rested a warm hand in the center of his back. “Rest, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Love you so much.”

Bucky was gonna kiss him _so much_ that night, but in the moment, he settled for a soft sigh, and relaxing even more, hoping Steve would read it as falling more deeply asleep.

One more caress to his hair, one more kiss, and he heard Steve leave. Good, at least Bucky wouldn't keep him from work any longer, he figured, as he drifted off for real.


	10. Afternoon Delight (I apologize for nothing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I somehow finished this then promptly forgot about it? Yeah, I'm ashamed of me too.
> 
> Anyway, have some threesome porn on this glorious Sunday evening.

Bucky was on the phone when Peggy came into their little shared office.

_Need privacy?_ she wrote on a pad of paper and showed him, and he shook his head, taking it from her and scrawling  _nah it's just bullshit weekly meeting stuff SO BORING_

Peggy snickered silently, and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, that's right,” he said aloud, in what Peggy thought of as his professional voice. “Yes, I e-mailed you about that last night.” He made a wanking motion, and Peggy stifled a giggle.

And, feeling delightfully evil, sat in his lap.

Bucky mock-glared at her, but slipped an arm around her waist. Aw. He thought she was being sweet.

Peggy popped the top button on her dress.

Bucky gave her a very long-suffering look. So she undid the next button, and the next.

Bucky shifted his phone to the other side  of his head , and she helpfully held it up for him while he leaned over and kissed her breasts, nuzzling the soft skin. She finished unbuttoning, and shrugged the top of her dress off, naked to the waist except for a choker of pearls and her bra.

(Not that the bra left very much to the imagination. White and wispy and lace, with demi-cups, her breasts threatened to spill out if she breathed deeply. Peggy took a very deep breath.)

Bucky opened his mouth in a silent moan and kissed her chest again, abandoning the phone for a moment to nuzzle the soft lace of the bra, suckling her nipple through the barely-there fabric.  Peggy could just about hear the droning-on of some deathly boring meeting. She arched her back a little, urging Bucky to kiss his way back up, his face buried between her breasts, licking and kissing until her skin was wet, goose-pimpling when he stopped for a second and blew across the pale skin there.

Peggy stifled a gasp when Bucky's hand, already on her thigh, pushed up her skirt and his fingertips rubbed against her vulva.  There wasn't a whole lot to her knickers, either;  a  matching scrap of white lace and very little else .

Oh, she was wet, and Bucky was  _still listening_ , the fucker, because something caught his attention and thank God she'd thought to keep holding the phone for him.

“No, you're wrong,” he said. “If you look at – no, this is _basic stuff_. Look, check slide forty-three, that's got the details. No, trust me on this, it borrows from _Euler_ , it's practically ancient history.” He sounded firm, maybe a little annoyed, and in no way like he had his girlfriend on his lap and was fingering her while burying his face in her tits.

Peggy pressed her free hand against her mouth to stifle another gasp – Bucky had pushed her knickers aside, his fingers sliding between her labia, slick and wet and easy. He tightened his other hand around her waist, just for a moment and – oh, he had felt the tip of her  d iva  c up. She got an extra kiss for that, this one tender, and then he was back on the phone, arguing with someone over something technical and very, very brilliant-sounding, and it was that steady, sure voice that was doing it for her almost as much as his fingers circling her clit, then stroking the length of her vulva, then rubbing her clit a little harder. (Okay, mostly it was his hand. But knowing that he was making her crazy, that his cock was hard against her thigh, that he was doing all that  _and_ arguing some obscure mathematical concept – well, fuck, you couldn't blame a girl. )

Bucky won whatever argument he was having, and that seemed to draw the meeting to a close. He'd started  _teasing_ her, the fucker, and she couldn't do anything about it because she was melting away in his arms, his clever fingers  touching her, drawing out the orgasm. Christ, she was wet halfway down her thighs,  and  he must be soaked to the wrist. 

Bucky nuzzled her breasts again, using his teeth to pull the lace down and lapping eagerly at her nipple while he held her tight, tight on his lap. He pulled away long enough to bid goodbye on the phone, then Peggy hit the button to hang up, made sure the line was  _not_ connected, and put her head back and  _moaned_ .

“Oh, you fucking beautiful woman,” Bucky swore, his hand moving faster now. “God. God, you fucking-- how are you _real?_ ” he moaned, removing his hand just long enough to push the other cup of her bra down and kiss his way down her breast, lapping and suckling as he went. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I can't believe you – oh, God, baby, my good girl, come for me. That's my girl.” His hand was between her legs again, rubbing her off, just dipping into her then returning to her clit, fingertips fast, urgent, and Peggy wailed, going limp in his lap as the orgasm tore through her, making her shake, scream Bucky's name, and press into his hand, wanting this feeling to keep going, keep going –

“Oh, my beauty,” he said, his voice a little shaky. “Oh, Peggy, beautiful.” He gathered her more firmly into his lap, instead of her just sitting on one thigh, and kissed her down. “Fuck me, my darling.”

She grinned, and kissed his jaw. “Mmm. Yes, please.”

Bucky laughed softly, and turned his head to kiss her. “You utter beauty. Look, my hand's  wet with you .” He held aforesaid hand up to her face, pressing his thumb against her lower lip. Of course she opened her mouth and suckled, tongue wrapping around the digit.

Bucky moaned, and she felt his cock twitch against her thigh. Oh yes, about that.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “It hurts to get fucked, this early on the rag...”

“Don't you dare apologize for that,” he gasped, and pulled her in to kiss him, his hand going up her thigh again, squeezing her bottom. Her dress was probably wrecked. It was _definitely_ uncomfortably bunched up around her waist, and she wriggled free for a moment to let it drop, standing before Bucky in nothing but her bra (her breasts mostly out of the cups), her knickers (soaked through) and her heels.

Bucky made a sound she'd never heard before, but it went straight to her clit, that was for sure.

“Oh yes,” she breathed, and climbed back onto his lap, straddling his thighs this time, and cupped his face in her hands for another kiss.

“Dammit,” Steve swore from the doorway. “I didn't want to miss the lunchtime quickie.”

“You haven't,” she promised, turning around and smiling at him. “Bucky hasn't even come yet.”

“Yeah, that'll change in a few seconds,” he managed. “Steven, your wife started making out with me when I was on a _conference call_. I had to discuss doctorate-level mathematics while she undressed herself  on me. Life is not _fair_.”

Steve laughed, coming into the office and leaning over to kiss Peggy, then Bucky, lingering with both of them. “No sympathy. God _damn_ , you made her happy,” he approved, his hand slipping between Peggy's legs.

Peggy undulated, reveling in both her men holding her. “Feels good,” she sighed, rubbing against Steve's hand – and, not accidentally, rubbing the back of it against Bucky's cock. “Mmm. Let's give him a blowjob together.”

Bucky moaned, and Steve kissed her, obviously approving. Peggy slipped off of Bucky's lap and she and Steve knelt between his legs, quickly undoing his belt, button and fly, and not even bothering with slipping his jeans off; easier to reach into his boxer briefs and take his cock out that way, as Steve did.

Bucky was leaning back in the chair, moaning already when they went for him, Peggy moving to sit on Steve's lap so they could both fit. She buried her head between Bucky's legs, licking the base of his cock, flattening her tongue and going as slowly as she could, one hand squeezing his thigh.

Steve must have taken the tip of his cock; she was just about aware of how close his face was to hers, his mouth wrapped around the head, suckling and kissing.

Bucky's wails grew louder, the two of them working together – not that it took long. Peggy slipped down and out, preferring to stand by Bucky, leaning over to dip her breasts just out of reach. Poor baby, he  _whimpered_ , his hand cupping her bottom, reaching. She took pity and bent more deeply over him, pushing her chest out. He surprised her then – he kissed his way up, finding her mouth, and they kissed, open and hungry and Steve must have been doing good work, because it only took a  minute more before Bucky  _screamed_ into her mouth, and she felt him go limp in the chair.

“Oh, sweetie,” she murmured, pressing kisses to his cheekbone, the corner of his eye, his mouth all red and lips swollen from kissing. “Precious, precious. You did so good, coming for us like that.”

Bucky made a soft sound, and she kissed him again, smiling into his mouth. “Mine, all mine,” she whispered, and Bucky chuckled softly.

“Bet Steve'll argue with you on that,” he mumbled, and opened his eyes. They were shiny, tear-filled, and all but glowed with joy.

“We're married, we own everything jointly,” she teased, wiping gently under each eye with her thumbs. “You're ours.”

“Good.” Bucky sighed happily, eyes slipping closed, and reached down to haul Steve up, or at least try to. “You haven't come yet.”

“Not my fault I'm late to the party,” Steve teased, leaning in to kiss Bucky's throat. “Shh, baby. Take a few seconds to come down at least.”

“You take a few seconds,” Bucky muttered, slipping his hand down the front of Steve's jeans.

Steve gave a little moan and rolled his hips. “Feels good.”

Bucky smiled and leaned forward to kiss Steve, his hand working between Steve's legs. “Yeah, you do,” he breathed, and slid them both to the floor, moving them so that Steve had his back to Bucky's chest, legs splayed over Bucky's and sprawled back against him. He nuzzled the side of Steve's throat, and kissed his ear. “Peggy-love, what are you doing, not getting kissed by us?”

Peggy laughed and knelt, still only in underwear and heels. “I'm not allowed to enjoy the view?”

“Nope,” Steve said, and pulled her into his lap, the two of them leaning against Bucky, strong and sturdy.

There was a genuine sharp pang in her chest, the sweet pain of being completely in love. Her two men were holding her, Bucky trading off between kissing Steve's throat and shoulder and leaning over him to kiss Peggy. His metal hand caressed her back, smooth and cool and familiar. It was hard, of course, but there was a comfort even in that, because it was _Bucky_.

Steve managed to revive himself enough to reach for a few kisses of his own, his familiar mouth against hers. God, talk about a comfort, talk about being in love. The first man, maybe, who had looked at her and _seen_ her, not just what he wanted her to be.

Peggy made a soft noise into his mouth, and moved so that she knelt between his legs, facing the both of them but, to be honest, with Steve the whole focus of her attention.

“Peg,” he whispered, and she reached between them to undo his jeans and wrap her hand around his cock, aching and hard and curved so sweetly up towards his belly.

“ _Oh_.” Steve whispered against her mouth, and he wrapped his arms tight, tight around her, and she rolled her hips (as best she could – the three of them were tessellated together, but not with much room to spare), and Steve moaned. His head fell back onto Bucky's shoulder, and Peggy chased him down, kissing him. They were squished together and her wrist was starting to ache, but that didn't matter in the moment. Not when she could twist her wrist, and Steve _howled_.

Peggy laughed, utterly delighted, and heard Bucky laugh too, the two of them kissing Steve, his hands gripping her hips as she stroked her hand, and tried to get him to last as long as she could.

Their positions forced patience, Steve gradually falling further and further apart until he wasn't even holding himself up, lying heavy on Bucky, his hands weak around her legs. Peggy moved her hand and got her knees under her and lifted up, just a little, then sank back down so that his cock rubbed against her vulva, wet and body-hot.

Steve's mouth opened, but he was silent, coming hard, and she kissed him down. Her husband was gasping for breath, red in the face, and unspeakably gorgeous.

Peggy told him so, whispered how much she loved him, how he was beautiful, her man, her husband. How she loved him completely, how she loved his body and his mind and his kindness.

Steve came back to himself slow but sweet, smiling, his head still lolling on Bucky's shoulder as they both kissed him. Bucky got a few kisses to himself, of course – poor thing, he was buried under both of them – but Steve was her focus, her heart, as he'd always been.

He sighed happily and started to wriggle a little, more or less as Peggy realized that she was sticky, gross, and getting a little chilly.

“Urgh,” she said, and scowled when her men laughed at her. “Oh, fuck you, I don't see you running about in your lacy nothings.”

Steve laughed harder, and hauled her off of his lap so he could stand up. “Poor love.” He helped her up and they both looked down at Bucky, who peered up at them.

“Don't you give me that look. I can't feel my legs, and it really is your faults,” he accused.

Peggy giggled and she and Steve leaned over, helping to haul him up and put him back together. He stayed leaning on both of them for a few moments while he got feeling back, and Peggy kissed just under his ear, sorry not sorry.

Steve found her dress and helped her back into it, and Bucky dug up a light blanket at the bottom of a closet, kept there against the chill of winter, and wrapped her up, hugging her close.

“I'll be fine,” she protested. “Just got to go home and get a shower. And change.”

“Warm up first, beauty,” Bucky ordered. “You've got goose pimples.”

And then of course, of _course_ that meant both of them wrapping around her, cuddling her between them until she was warm and well-kissed and more than well-loved.

“We should get an actual lunch,” she sighed, resting in Steve's arms, Bucky to her back. God, he was like a blast furnace. One that loved her so much it made her stomach hurt, sometimes.

“I'll pick us up some sandwiches,” he said, and nuzzled the back of her neck. “You run home and get yourself comfortable, love, food'll be here waiting for you.”

Peggy nodded, and promised herself she'd start moving. Any minute now. Honest. Just as soon as she was done being held and kissed and warmed, two pairs of arms wrapped around her, two bodies pressing her between them, her two men protective and so, so loving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	11. A Child of our Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How a family of three becomes a family of four.
> 
> (NB: This story contains a non-graphic -- more or less -- description of childbirth)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little something to tide us over as I get back in the rhythm of writing. I originally wrote this as part of a longer series of stories that sort of fell apart, but it does stand alone beautifully...
> 
> The title is straight from Tippett's wonderful work of the same name. It seemed right, that this baby born of three parents is a child of our time.

Peggy gasped a little at a particularly strong contraction. They were still _ages_ apart, which meant she had who knows how long to go. At least she was in her own home. And her husbands were kind enough to take turns freaking the fuck out, so one of them was always with her. For when she needed to freak the fuck out.

“I can highly recommend screaming into a pillow,” Bucky said, while she lay between his legs, back to his chest, his hands rubbing her arms. “Worked a treat a few minutes ago.”

Peggy  _had_ to laugh, and turned her head to kiss Bucky in thanks. Steve came back from checking their supply of clean sheets and swaddlings for the eight millionth time, and settled beside her.

“Maryam said she'll be here in an hour or two, unless the contractions speed up considerably,” he said.

“And?” Peggy prompted.

“Maryam said I'm not allowed to call her anymore,” Steve admitted, and Peggy snickered at him.

“Please stop annoying my midwife?” she requested, and pressed back against Bucky at another wave of muscle contractions. “Bucky, what's your hand rated for? Pressure-wise?”

“Well, I can't make diamonds. Oh. Oh, Peg, honey, of course you can squeeze it, you won't hurt anything,” Bucky soothed her, wrapping silver fingers around her hand. “We've got you, sweetheart.”

Peggy sighed, and relaxed back against him, squeezing cool metal fingers that could only, would only, ever mean her Bucky. He squeezed back gently, and she smiled.

Steve leaned in to kiss her cheek, his big hand rubbing her belly. “Hey Sarah-bear,” he murmured. “Be nice to your Mummy, okay? She's working so hard for you.”

“And I won't let her forget it, either,” Peggy mumbled. She was, at a rough estimate, the size of a house. She hadn't seen her feet in months, her back ached constantly, and she just wanted to _not be pregnant anymore_. She wanted her body back, and she wanted to meet their daughter, dammit. _Now._

Peggy cried out, more in surprise than pain, at the next wave.

“Shhh, just breathe through it,” Steve murmured, while Bucky kissed her hair.

“They haven't even really _begun_ ,” Peggy moaned, curling forward.

“I know, beautiful,” Bucky murmured, gently uncurling her. “Poor girl. My brave girl. Squeeze my hand, okay?”

Peggy nodded, and hoped things would hurry up.

Things did not hurry up. At all. For twelve hours. She sweated and moaned and chewed ice chips and closed her eyes, resting against one man or the other when she could, sometimes held between them. Maryam arrived and settled in and gave them a little guidance – or at least someone to turn to when Peggy grunted and panted and pushed, all for nothing.

She slept a little, here and there, and so did Bucky and Steve, though they rarely left the nursery now, catching naps in the big easy chair in the corner.

Mostly they were together, though. They took turns helping her walk the apartment, her strong husbands. They took turns kissing her, except they didn't really, and Maryam got a beautiful photo of them kissing her cheeks at the same time, one on each side.

Steve rubbed her feet, and Bucky sang to her, more than he ever had before. Old love songs, newer love songs, and an inspired rendition of Three Dog Night's  _Joy to the World_ that left all of them laughing their asses off.

Hours, hours, and Maryam had started to talk about calling an ambulance, about a C-section. Peggy begged for just a little more time while Bucky wiped her neck and back with a damp washcloth.

Steve bent over and kissed her belly. “Hey little girl,” he murmured. “Time to come out and meet us, okay? Please?”

Whether it was Steve's quiet plea, or Peggy's determination, or just the right time – finally things began to happen. Maryam became all but overjoyed at her dilation (and wasn't that something to be proud of?), and Bucky and Steve held her while she squatted, both of them coaching her through her breathing in between the infinite kisses and pets and caresses they'd been showering her with since this whole fucking ordeal began.

There was blood, and shit, and Peggy had stopped caring, lost in breathing and pain, pushing, metal glinting in her hand, her fingers tight, tight around Bucky's wrist.

And then, on a bright autumn morning, Sarah Rebecca Barnes Rogers came into the world, and was exceedingly displeased about it, too.

Peggy was exhausted, leaning against Steve. There was more blood, but not too much, and Steve was crying and holding her. Peggy suspected everyone in the room who wasn't the midwife was crying, actually.

She closed her eyes for a moment, and rested. One moment of quiet in Steve's arms, the breath of peace she'd always found there and only there.

Steve wrapped around her and eased her back onto something soft. All the pain was gone (well, enough was gone, and the endorphins covered the rest), and Peggy breathed deep and opened her eyes.

Steve was grinning, although not at her. She tracked his eye-line and smiled, and if she hadn't been crying before, she was now.

Bucky held their daughter, wrinkly and reddish and still covered in birth goo. Maryam was clipping and cutting the cord, and Bucky smiled down at the tiny person in his arms who was announcing her displeasure to everyone.

“Hi,” he murmured. “Hi, Sarah. I'm your Papa. Welcome to the world.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and looked up and smiled at Peggy and Steve. “Time to meet your other parents,” he said, and moved to sit by Peggy, handing the tiny baby over. She was loosely wrapped in a soft blue blanket, and Peggy took her easily.

“Hello you,” she said, as Steve's arm slotted in with hers, the two of them holding their daughter together. 

She felt Bucky hesitate, and looked at him. He would have to consciously reach out with his metal hand, to touch their baby.

Either Peggy's death-glare was heightened by total exhaustion, or the Mum-look kicked in quickly. Whatever it was, Bucky ducked his head and reached over, his arm wrapping around Sarah too, the tiny baby now held by all her parents.

“Hi,” Steve whispered, and they took their time holding Sarah, who quickly calmed and blinked up at Peggy. She yawned, and blinked again. Peggy decided she was perfect.

Steve and Bucky ably divvyed up the work, with Steve cleaning Sarah up (fair enough, since Bucky had _caught_ her, which Peggy was pretty sure he would literally never get over, not that she could blame him), and Bucky cleaning Peggy up, all but carrying her to the shower and washing her tenderly, if at top speed. He actually _did_ carry her back to the nursery and settled her in the big easy chair, with Sarah returned to her, now clean and sweet-smelling. And very hungry.

“Look at her go,” Bucky said admiringly. “She's got your appetite, Peg.”

Peggy grinned, and watched her daughter suckle away. “She's brilliant.”

“Well, of course. You made her.”

“We'll all make her,” Peggy mumbled, tracing an infinitesimal eyebrow with one fingertip. Sarah's eyes were closed as she concentrated on her task, and Peggy was half-asleep herself.

Bucky knelt at her feet and rested his head on her knee, while Steve sat on one of the chair's arms and stroked her hair, the three of them silent. Maryam, saint that she was, was busy elsewhere in the apartment, giving them time to be a family.

Four of them now. Peggy touched them all in turn; Steve who had loved her when no one else did, the best man she'd ever known, his body comfortable and familiar and home. Then Bucky, who had literally fallen into her life and transformed it with the insane size of his heart, her lovebug who kept her and Steve sweet and safe. And the latest to join them, Sarah, perfect in every way.

Sarah eventually had her fill, and celebrated her first meal by falling fast asleep.

“You want to do the same, Peg? We can put her cradle in our room.” Bucky said softly, looking up at her.

“Mmm. Yeah. What day is it? When is the last time I slept?” Peggy rubbed her eyes. “Lie down with me? Both of you?”

“It's the twelfth of October, about two days ago, and yes of course, in that order,” Steve said, because he never could give up the chance to be a jammy little prick.

Peggy decided to sock him later, and surrendered Sarah to Steve's arms, leaning heavily on Bucky while he walked her down the corridor to their big, sun-filled bedroom.

“Oh,” Peggy said, somehow forgetting that it was actually mid-morning.

Bucky laughed and helped her into bed, incredibly gentle with her body, which was mostly a collection of distant hurts that soon wouldn't be so distant. She grabbed his hand – the metal one – and kissed his fingers, before she let him go.

“There now,” he murmured, and kissed her forehead before going to pull the curtains closed.

Steve settled Sarah, and slipped into bed, gathering her close. Peggy went gratefully, letting his big body shelter her. Bucky slid in behind her, but didn't crowd; they would have plenty of time to cuddle later. Right now, it was more than enough to have her husbands in bed with her, her daughter asleep, her whole family contained in this peaceful, familiar room.

Peggy fell asleep immediately, and didn't dream at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	12. Things that remain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NB: This chapter deals with PTSD after the Chitauri attacks, and involves a discussion of panic attacks.

Bucky woke up slowly, feeling dull and still thick-headed in the summer heat. Naps plus medication sucked, when you got down to it.

“Hullo there, sleepyhead.”

Oh, he had a Peggy. Eyes not even open yet, he turned towards her voice and wriggled a little closer, hissing when he moved his leg.

“Hush, Bucky, I'll come to you.” A warm body slid next to him, and he pillowed his head on Peggy's thigh, sliding his arms around her waist. He didn't love sleeping with the prosthetic on, but this was worth the discomfort, to be able to squeeze her until she giggled.

“Fall back asleep, beautiful,” she murmured. “I've got you.”

Bucky shook his head and yawned. “Nnnn. 'm awake.” He pressed his face into Peggy's thigh, and sighed when a breeze came through the window, cooling the sheen of sweat on his back. “Time's'it?”

“Just gone four.”

It had been barely one when he fell asleep. Bucky forced his eyes open, but couldn't bring himself to sit up yet. “Y'okay?”

“Of course, love. Just. Um. Just wanted to be near you,” she finally admitted, and Bucky gave her another good squeeze.

She laughed, and hugged him back. “Stop encouraging me.”

“Won't.” He yawned and finally pushed himself upright. “S'okay to be scared, baby. You scared me too.”

“I can't stop thinking about that dream.” Peggy wrapped her arms around him, the two of them holding each other. “I could've lost you so easy. A few more minutes before help came, or that gash a little wider, or--”

“Or we could have stayed home, or dropped Angie off earlier, or later,” he reminded her. “What-if's don't matter, love. Close your eyes and concentrate on the now.” He stroked her back and kissed her cheek. “We're in bed, because you've got the laziest husband in the world who isn't named Steve. And your lazy husband who _is_ named Steve'll be home with dinner for us soon, and until then all we have to do is lie in bed together and cuddle and gossip.”

Peggy laughed, her head on his shoulder while he set her in the here-and-now. “Forgive me for being clingy?”

“No, because there's nothing to forgive.” Bucky grinned at her when she opened her eyes, charming and sweet as anyone could ask for. “Forgive me for scaring you? I would give anything to spare you that.”

She'd had his blood on her hands, and up to her elbows. She'd already thrown out the dress she'd worn that day, after her vision went gray seeing the dust and the dirt and bloodstains on it.

(A new dress had appeared in her closet a few days later, with no explanation, but kisses from Bucky and Steve both.)

“I know,” she said, and helped him lie down again when he started to slump. “Dizzy, lovely?”

“A little.” He sighed, and rested his head on her lap. “Steve has a point. Being stuck in bed blows.”

“We'll help you out to the living room for dinner,” she promised him. “Open all the windows, and pretend we can see the sunset.”

Bucky giggled – their view, from every room, was pretty much a series of walls of other buildings. “I love you,” he said, and snuggled a little closer. “I'm sorry you're having a rough time, love.”

Peggy had held out the longest, but she'd had the worst nightmares too, and whenever her men were home, she was with one of them or, preferably, both. They all stuck together a little more than usual, but Peggy truly hated when either of them were out of her sight for long.

Peggy made a noise. “I'm sorry I'm being a pain in the arse – I am, and I know it.” She gave a little grunt. “If I'm still...panicking...in a few days, I'll call Steve's therapist.”

Bucky sat up and frowned at that, taking her hands in his. “Love, what do you mean?”

She stared at the messy sheets, to avoid looking at him. “I keep having...baby panic attacks, I guess. Not full blown, but little ones. When it's been too long since I've seen either of you. And a bad one, when you went out for coffee the other day.” She looked up, red-faced. “I _know_ it's just trauma, and I _know_ you're alive and safe and Steve is too, I just...it's like you're both just water and smoke, and you'll flow away from me if I'm not careful and I'll be alone again.”

“Oh my God. Oh, Peg, my pretty Peggy-O.” Bucky folded her close and stroked her hair. “My poor lovely, I had no idea.”

“Shut up,” she said, but kindly. “Please don't. Just...hold me.”

“That, I can do,” he said warmly, and sat back against the headboard, wriggling so that she could sit mostly in his lap, but his leg wouldn't be bumped or hurt, and her shoulder didn't have any pressure on it. He stroked her hair, but was otherwise still – his lovely lady, who tried to be so strong for all of them. (And, to be fair, succeeded.)

Peggy was slow catching her breath, but he felt her ease and relax. “Hey love?” he asked.

“Yeah? You need anything?”

“No, not like that.” He kissed her, since she was right there, and they needed it. “Would you be willing to call Steve's therapist tomorrow? Panicking because I'm out of your sight – that really, really worries me, Peggy. You shouldn't have to deal with that.”

She tensed up, but then relaxed, and sighed. “I should, shouldn't I? Call, I mean, try to get an appointment, or a referral...”

“Only if you want to. And I'm not saying don't be scared, and don't be sad, because I for one am going to be a giant fucking terrified ball of tears for awhile yet, but I want you to be healthy and happy at the end of this, too,” Bucky said.

Peggy giggled. “I shouldn't laugh at the mental image of a giant ball of tears with your hair, should I?”

“Love, you should laugh at anything you want to,” Bucky said, heart calming at the sound of her being happy. “C'mon, I bet we could get Steve to draw your hairy tear-ball for you.”

“Ew! Oh, God, it just sounds awful!” She giggled again, and he kissed her cheek, messy and wet to make her yelp and shove him away.

Bucky laughed and caught her hands up, kissing the backs of them. “By which you mean  _hilarious_ . C'mon, don't you want a hairy little tear-ball to follow you around all the time?”

She shrieked and laughed and shoved him away. “God,  _you're_ awful!”

“Uh huh.” he looked smug, and settled back happily against the headboard. “My work here is done.”

“Ew. Ew, ew, ew.” She giggled, and curled up beside him companionably. “Okay, I promise I'll call tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Bucky kissed her temple. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” She smiled, and took his hand, stroking his long fingers. “Thank you. For not dying. We keep making you apologize, and I don't think I've properly thanked you.”

“I'm not sure I had much to do with it,” Bucky said, a little bemused. “But you're welcome. I'm glad I'm still here too.” He squeezed her hand a moment, then let her go back to touching him, almost petting his hand. “It's going to be okay, love. We're all together, and we'll all heal. I promise, we'll get through this.”

She just nodded, and traced a vein on the back of his hand, and tried to concentrate on the present, and not what might have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	13. Coffee Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed writing these guys so much it hurt. This chapter is just a little amuse-bouche of a story, but it was so much fun to just write something nice and easy. Takes place not long after the Chitauri attack.

“Jesus Christ, I feel like I'm out for my constitutional or something,” Bucky said wryly. Using crutches with his prosthetic arm was...a learning experience. But it was one he was learning reasonably well.

“Tell me the fuck about it,” Peggy said. “On the other hand, we've officially escaped Steve for at least half an hour.”

“I'm going to take ten steps without anyone twitching in worry,” Bucky said dreamily, and Peggy burst into giggles.

He smiled at her, and that alone made Peggy flush a little, because that was Bucky's life now. He paused for a soft kiss, then one more, and they resumed walking to the coffee shop. Where they were going to get coffee and cakes, like real people who had real lives and were not still mostly stuck in bed (Bucky) or in the apartment (Peggy). Steve had politely been informed that he could go fuss over a small stuffed animal if he needed to channel his energy somewhere.

Steve had not been very impressed by Bucky's sweet offer of his childhood toy. Well, sucked to be him. Bucky was taking his wife out on a date, and he was gonna do it in style. As much style as he could manage, anyway.

He was sweating a little by the time they got to the coffee shop, but it was so nice to be out in the summer sunshine, he didn't give a damn. And neither did Peggy, who kindly ordered for them both while he discreetly recovered at a table. Coulson brought their coffee and cakes over and wished them well. And asked after Steve, because some loves never died.

Peggy offered to sell Steve to him for a whole carrot cake.

Bucky, in the interests of defending his husband, raised the price to a whole carrot cake and a pound of coffee.

Coulson played along, but he knew they were kidding, almost definitely.

“Well, that's breakfast and pudding sorted for the week,” Peggy said happily, settling down to sip her latte. “What'll we fix next, Barnes?”

“World peace oughta be easy to sort out,” Bucky said, and attacked his almond croissant with great joy. He was healing, he burned a lot of calories, he was allowed.

“Oh, hey, serious thing actually. Well, serious-ish.” Peggy took a huge bite of her cake. “Assuming we still have savings left after this, how d'you feel about going to England for a visit this autumn?”

“I feel _fantastic_ about it,” Bucky assured her. “And we'll have the savings kiddo, promise. I'm still working part-time, and Steve's going to a convention every weekend in August I think.”

Peggy made a face and Bucky laughed at her. “Sweetheart, we're getting you home. I haven't even started to dip into my savings.”

“Bucky, I can't ask you to --”

“Ah!” Bucky held up his hand. “You can, in fact, ask me to help pay to go meet your family.” He smiled softly. “I want to meet them, darling. I want to see the country that gave you to the world, and meet your old friends, and see where you came from.”

Peggy's face softened. “Bucky, you'll love it. Especially in autumn, when the light gets so long and low, and it's just...heartbreaking, it's so beautiful. We'll go to Aldeburgh and the beach there, and you'll see the North Sea.”

“I can't wait,” Bucky said, and reached across the table to wrap his hand around hers, just for a moment, silver on pale skin. “Oh my God, honey, I can't wait to see everything.”

Peggy giggled and turned her hand to squeeze his, then retrieved it to go back to her cake.

“Do your parents really want to meet me?” Bucky asked, a little shyly.

“Bucky, you've talked to them on the phone. You know they love you,” Peggy chided gently. “They won't show it very much, but they're so happy to have you as part of the family.”

Bucky smiled shyly, and Peggy kicked his good leg gently, then ran the side of her foot along his calf, soothing and kind. “How's your Mom?” she asked quietly.

Bucky shrugged. “Sad, I think. She...doesn't ask about much more than how I'm doing,” he said quietly.

“It's a start?” Peggy offered, and smiled sadly when Bucky met her eyes. “I'm sorry, darling. I wish I could do something to help.”

Bucky just smiled back at her, and she held out a fork-ful of cake. “This won't fix anything, but it tastes good.”

Bucky laughed at that, and ate the proffered treat. “It does taste good. Thank you, love.”

Peggy reached out to cup his cheek in her hand, just for a moment. “Are you working this afternoon?”

“Probably. There are some little things I want to just get out of the way, and I've been putting them off.” He smiled at her, family fading away for the moment. “Stuck in bed is the perfect time to tackle them. You?”

“Yeah, I really ought to check on some stuff at the shop, and go through the latest bills. You mind sticking around? We're getting groceries delivered at three, and I don't know if Steve's in later."

“Of course I don't mind – honestly, love, I'm not going far for the rest of the day,” Bucky admitted, a little ruefully. “Consider me your househusband.”

“Oh, I already do,” she said airily, and Bucky laughed out loud at that.

“I am here merely to do your bidding,” he said, bowing his head a little.

“I cannot _wait_ to have a sex drive again,” Peggy sighed, and Bucky winked at her.

They lingered over coffee, talking idly of England – Bucky wanted to spend a little time in London, if they could – and of Indiana. Peggy had never been, and Bucky assured her that she was missing nothing. He smiled, though, telling her about the State Fair and hanging out in the fields when he was a little kid.

They turned towards home together, Peggy slowing down to keep up with Bucky, softly encouraging him when he needed it, and the two of them pausing and resting on a bench when he needed that too.

“I'm sorry I suck,” Bucky said, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Yeah, you're the worst,” she deadpanned. “That's why I married you, babydoll.” She turned her head and pressed a long kiss into his hair.

Bucky just sighed, and relaxed a little more into her steady strength, the hard bones and muscle of her body, his Peg.

They started up again, and Bucky made it the rest of the way and into the house, making a beeline for the bed. And almost knocking into Peggy, who was standing in the doorway to the bedroom.

She turned and put her finger to her lips, and Bucky carefully crutched a little closer to peer over her shoulder, and was frankly glad he had assistance in standing.

Steve was curled up on the unmade bed, head on Peggy's pillow, and his good arm wrapped around Bucky's childhood teddy bear. He was a little flushed from the afternoon warmth, and fast asleep.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Bucky breathed. “That's disgusting.”

“I didn't know he could look angelic,” Peggy whispered back, and stole Bucky's phone out of his back pocket to take a dozen pictures. “Okay, you can go now.”

Bucky snickered and limped over to the bed, crawling in and snuggling up to Steve's back.

He shifted, and Bucky kissed the back of his neck. “Shh,” he whispered. “Everything's okay, Stevie, go back to sleep.”

Steve made a soft sound, but didn't wake up the rest of the way – he even relaxed further into Bucky's arms.

“I've got you,” Bucky breathed, and sighed, letting all the tension go. Peggy came over and slipped a pillow under his bad leg, and kissed his cheek.

“Lucky boys,” she whispered into his ear, and Bucky smiled and turned his head to kiss her.

“I'll stay awake,” he whispered. “Swap out with you when you get back?”

“Over my dead body,” she whispered back. “Three of us in the bed, please.”

Bucky grinned at her, and they kissed again, lingering a little this time. Then one more.

“I have to _go_ ,” she hissed at him.

“Mini date again tomorrow?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes, and she smiled and kissed his cheek.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world.”

Satisfied with that, Bucky turned back around and cuddled the still-sleeping Steve. The two of them should do something soon; a little date just for _them_. One that preferably involved not much walking – his leg was killing him. Bucky let his eyes drift shut, just for a few minutes, and dozed against Steve's back in the warm summer afternoon, daydreaming of how he'd show his man a good time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	14. The Strike Gold Christmas Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guys, it is nine hundred degrees out and twelve thousand percent humidity, so here, enjoy this Christmas story! Based on a prompt by, um, someone on Tumblr, it's the trio's second Christmas together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is maybe the porniest thing I've ever written, for real. It's got a soft chocolatey center of family goodness (and, frankly, blatent Christmas-wish fulfillment), but a rather thick coating of SUPER FUCKIN' EXPLICIT SEX. 
> 
> Also note that towards the end of the story, Peggy especially jokes about pretty heavy domination play, and then carries through. Both Bucky and Steve are *very enthusiastically consensual* about this, and are extremely happy about the idea of BDSM play that will leave them with bruises, but please be aware if this is not your thing or might really upset you. (Any explicit BDSM play takes place offscreen. At least, in this story.)

“You guys home?” Bucky called, letting himself in. “I got the ham! Might have to thaw it out, though. And thaw me out, for that matter..”

“We're in the bedroom,” Peggy called. Bucky sighed and set the ham in the fridge, shed his outermost layer of clothes (leaving three layers on) and headed for the tiny bedroom.

“I go out into bonecracking cold to get our Christmas dinner and this is the thanks I get?” he huffed. “You guys having sex without me?”

Peggy giggled, and lowered the quilt so she was bared from her breasts up. “We were just warming the bed up for you.”

“My ass you were,” Bucky said, and came over and reached under the covers to where he was pretty sure Steve was. A shriek as soon as his ice-cold metal hand made contact let him know he'd guessed right. He gave a little squeeze, for the sake of show. “Honestly. I know we're keeping the heating bills down, but you couldn't've waited for me to get back first?”

“No,” came Steve's muffled answer, and then Peggy moaned, her head tilting back. She reached under the pile of quilts, presumably to guide Steve's head.

“Oh, God, yeah, there,” she gasped, and moaned again, falling back against the pillows.

Bucky swore and leaned over to kiss her, glad he'd gotten his boots off at least. He trailed his mouth down to kiss her pale throat, following faint veins down to her breasts. He suckled at one nipple, lapping until it was hard in his mouth, then very lightly scraped his teeth over it.

Peggy wailed louder, and he pulled away, undressing as fast as he could, getting tangled in undershirt and jeans and two pairs of socks, but finally getting it all off and returning to his task, paying attention to her other breast this time, suckling in time with her moans as Steve worked between her legs.

“I'm going to – oh, oh, oh, boys --” Peggy came with a small, broken noise, and Bucky caught her up and kissed her down, squirming under the covers as Steve reappeared, warm and red-faced and with lips swollen and wet.

Bucky paused to kiss him hello and lick the taste of Peggy out of his mouth, moaning at the sharp flavor. He wrapped his hand around Steve's cock, stroking long and hard and even while he returned to kissing Peggy.

“My good boys,” she breathed, and reached between her legs, coating her fingers and giving him the first two to suckle clean. “My sweet, sexy boys.”

Bucky moaned, trying not to collapse on his lovers just yet. “Peg, you taste so good.”

She touched herself again, and gave her fingers to Steve this time, who groaned at the taste, eyes dropping closed. “You're both...” he tried to say around her fingertips, but Bucky knew an opening when he saw it and ducked down, squirming between them and wrapping his mouth around Steve's cock. He suckled and licked and slowly, inch by inch, took Steve's length wholly; definitely something to be proud of. He was also quite proud to have landed in such a way that he could slip his hand between Peggy's legs and rub there gently, starting with the great soft folds of her labia, dipping his fingertips into her vulva, then returning to slide them, slick and frictionless, over her clit.

Bucky breathed carefully around Steve's cock, tongue pulsing nice and easy, and waited for them to figure out that he was getting them both off together. Considering the noises they were both making, it didn't take long.

“ _Bucky_ ,” Steve groaned, and wrapped his fingers in Bucky's hair, tugging it, the slight sting making Bucky's own cock jump. _Later_ he told himself firmly, and twisted his wrist so that he could slip his first three fingers into Peggy and still rub her clit with his thumb. Hyper-senstive, she all but screamed, and Bucky started to bob his head, suctioning his cheeks. If he timed it just right--

Christmas must have come early, because Peggy was shaking and moaning just as Steve gave a low groan and flooded Bucky's mouth with his spend. He closed his eyes and moaned, suckling Steve dry and gentling Peggy down with his hand, gasping when he felt Peggy clench and pulse around his fingers. When Steve's cock was spent and Peggy's thighs were still, he kissed first Steve's thigh then hers and raised his head, just to check on them.

“Oh, you fucking _beauty_ ,” Peggy managed, her voice gone raw and rough, and Bucky smiled at her, pushing himself up to kiss one lover, then the other. “God damn, God damn, my fucking beautiful lover.”

Bucky kissed her again, suddenly breathless, then kissed Steve, then her again, then Steve again. “God, I love you,” he managed, suddenly realizing how hard he was, how hungry he was for them. “Both of you, I love you so much.”

“You gem, you jewel.” Steve now, breathing in his ear, licking and kissing the ultra-sensitive spot right below it. “You fucking beautiful --”

“You want to be fucked?” Peggy asked him, and he wailed and pushed back against Steve, steady and there.

“I'm not superhuman, and I just came so hard I saw stars,” he said wryly, and sucked up a mark on Bucky's neck, because Bucky's life wasn't perfect enough already.

“You got fingers,” Peggy observed.

“So do you,” Steve said, and Bucky's cock jerked.

“Oh, someone likes that,” Peggy said, her voice still slurred and raw. “Someone wants us both to finger him, fill his ass. Maybe take turns sucking him off.”

Bucky whimpered and nodded, and wailed when Peggy  _bit_ his nipple. “Fuck, please, please, please...”

“On your back, darling,” Steve murmured, and helped him lie down against the pillows. How were they both thinking so clearly? Bucky had thought he'd taken care of that. This was unfair, considering how his brain fuzzed in and out.

“Lube,” Peggy said, and he heard her opening the bottle, heard the _splurt_ and then again – that was both of them, then. Peggy leaned over and he moaned into her mouth and spread his legs, knees up and out of the way.

“So good, knows just what to do,” Peggy admired, and he preened a little, with the tiny part of his brain that still worked. The rest of it was taken up with Steve kissing down his chest, then his belly, then licking a long stripe up the bottom of his cock, swirling his tongue around the swollen head.

“You love this,” Steve murmured. “Love being ours.”

“I do,” Bucky gasped. “I'm yours – _oh_.” Steve had slid a fingertip in, which quickly turned into his full index finger.

“My turn,” Peggy said gleefully, and bit his nipple again, holding on with her teeth while she slid _her_ index finger in beside Steve's. Smaller, shorter, but she crooked it just as she let go of his nipple and the sensation flooded back into the sensitive nub of skin.

Bucky bit back a scream, but his back arched, and Steve was there again, working the head of his cock over, a second fingertip working its way into him.

“You're so tight,” Peggy whispered into his ear, those sweet, proper tones making the words even filthier. “You can tell we don't fuck you nearly enough, darling. You should be nothing but our sex toy, kept in the bed, wet and ready at all times.”

Bucky might have choked on his tongue.

“Oh, you _love_ that,” she purred, adding another finger, both of them working their hands in and out, making him feel so full, so _full_. “All you want is to be in this bed, have one or the other of us fuck you every day. Make you scream. I think that's what we'll do soon,” she sighed, and kissed his ear. “I'll tie you to the bed, and you'll eat me out until your jaw aches, then keep your face in my pussy while Steve fucks you. All you'll feel is him, and all you'll smell and taste is _me_.”

Bucky actually  _did_ scream at that, and at the way Steve was working his cock over and at the incredible, insane feeling of Peggy slipping her third finger into him, her and Steve clearly working together to move their hands just off of each others' time so he was being fucked by them both but there was no rhythm to fall into, nothing to get used to, keeping him on that knife edge until he couldn't take it anymore, and stopped being a man and turned into a supernova.

He drifted, then, waves of pleasure shaking him and leaving him heavy-limbed, floating, moaning when he felt them draw their fingers out, but only a distant, small sound. Everything was...peaceful. Nothing he needed to do, so Bucky just stayed in this sweet, wonderful place and let his lovers take care of everything.

He came to when it was completely dark outside; the sun had just begun to set when he first came into the bedroom hours ago. Steve was snoring at his side, head pillowed on Bucky's shoulder, and Peggy was on his other side, his head in her lap. Her fingers were combing through his hair, and she gave a little, gentle tug when she felt him wake up. “Back with us?” she asked tenderly, and Bucky nodded, not ready to speak just yet.

“Good love,” Peggy murmured, and slid down the bed so she could nestle into him. He kissed her and sighed deep into her mouth. “My Bucky, my good darling,” she praised, and he snuggled closer for a moment.

“How many times did you come?” he asked, when he could talk again. Steve was still snoring, and had begun to drool a little. It was unspeakably precious. 

“Three,” she said smugly, and he giggled.

“Good,” he said, and kissed her neck. “I'll make it four next time.”

“Big words,” she said.

“I'm the one gonna be spending the whole night with my face between your legs,” he pointed out, and grinned slyly when she went red. “Unh-unh, Mistress. You said it, so it's gonna happen.”

“You're picking up bratty habits from Steve, and I don't think I like it,” she said, and Bucky laughed.

“I'm a very good influence,” Steve mumbled, and yawned. “S'ry. Didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“You're just all tuckered out,” Bucky said fondly, shifting so he could keep an arm around each of them. “Stevie, love, you want the middle?” he asked solicitously. He was still the good sub, honest he was.

Steve nodded, and Bucky sat up, switching with him and taking the chance to kiss him thoroughly. He gently pushed Steve to lie down with Peggy, and covered them both with the pile of quilts.

“Oh!” Peggy pushed herself up and reached out, touching the bruising already coming up around Bucky's nipple. “Oh, I did that. Oh, love.”

“Yeah you did,” Bucky said warmly, and leaned over to kiss her. “You can fuss later. We're having afterglow now.”

“Not sorry at all,” she informed him, and he laughed and curled up against Steve's back, pressing kisses there.

“You good back there?” Steve asked, reaching behind him to rub Bucky's thigh.

“Mmm _hmm_.” He had his metal arm around Steve's waist and draped his other arm over him to reach for Peggy, hand resting on the warm, soft expanse of her perfect backside. He was thoroughly fucked-out, had the bruises to show for it, and now he got to press himself against the slab of pure, gorgeous, loving muscle called his husband, his perfect wife just a slight reach away. She was already kissing Steve and murmuring soft, wonderful things to him, and he settled down and dozed happily, listening to the two of them love on each other. 

 

The next morning was Christmas Eve, which meant Bucky felt entirely justified in waking the household by blasting Mannheim Steamroller.

“Go to hell,” Steve informed him, when Bucky appeared with coffee for everyone. It was entirely too cold in the apartment to go naked, but he'd added a Santa hat to his pajamas ensemble. (Wool socks, flannel pants, a waffle-knit shirt he'd stolen from Steve and a giant knitted hoodie he'd stolen from Peggy. He was the sexiest, definitely.)

“Ungh. Coffee,” was Peggy's addition to the conversation, so she got hers first.

Steve got his next, and Bucky crawled back into bed, taking his usual spot in the middle and relaxing into Steve for their morning cuddle.

“Happy Christmas,” Steve said, and kissed Bucky's cheek. “When's Becca getting here?”

“Not till this afternoon. We've got ages to get ready.”

“Good,” Peggy said, and gave them a gorgeous smile.

“What's that for?” Bucky teased gently. “Coffee's not _that_ good.”

“One, yes it is. And two – it's Christmas, and you're going to spend all day with people who openly love you exactly as you are,” she said simply, and Bucky actually bodily melted.

Or at least it felt that way, as he held out an arm and Peggy giggled and joined them, resting her head on Steve's shoulder.

“Everything's different from last year,” Bucky agreed, and kissed her, slow and soft. “I'm married, and I'm here, and I'm so happy. We all made it through a shitty year, and we're still going to pull off the best Christmas ever.”

Peggy rubbed his thigh, tracing where the big scar was, and kissed him back. “The best ever,” she agreed, and Steve squeezed her around the waist.

Bucky smiled and settled down in the mess of bodies. “What was you guys' first Christmas together like?” he asked.

“Broke,” Steve contributed.

“Kind of depressing, actually,” Peggy mused.

“It was before my surgery, and the cold was really hard on me,” Steve explained. “My heart and lungs were...not in good shape.”

“We couldn't really afford to turn the heat on,” Peggy said. “Or buy food other than ramen, for that matter.”

“We spent six months having sex under a pile of blankets,” Steve reminisced.

Bucky blinked. “Okay, little match girls.”

Peggy giggled. “It sucked, okay! We were both scared. Then Steve had his surgery the next year and...that helped. I mean, we were still broke, but a stiff wind wasn't going to carry him off.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky pulled Steve in for a soft kiss. “Wish I'd known you guys then.”

“You really don't,” Peggy said, but she was smiling. “We were very much in love, but not always...nice to one another.” She stroked Steve's cheek. “We had to learn to talk, and listen.”

“Mostly to talk,” Steve admitted, and kissed her. “You might've been good for us, but we wouldn't have been good for you.”

“Bull shit,” Bucky said, but he was relaxed and lazy with them. “You guys are fine.”

“Well, yeah. We were when you met us. But...it's really good, with you. You make us both talk,” Steve tried to explain. “You've changed the dynamic. You're gentler than we are, and protective in a different way.”

“And you bring us romance,” Peggy said, and nuzzled his neck where Steve had given him a hickey. “I'm so bad at it, but you can give that to Steve. And to me,” she admitted.

“Oh.” Bucky blinked back tears. “I didn't realize...thank you. For that.” He cleared his throat.

“What's this?” Steve asked, shifting so that Bucky lay between his legs, back to Steve's chest and with Steve's arms around him. “What did you think, that you didn't change anything?”

“Well, I know the bills are split three ways now?” Bucky offered weakly. “And I'm not alone.”

“You really didn't know how much you give us?” Peggy asked, clearly amazed. “Oh my _God_. Bucky. You changed _everything_ , and we're never giving you up.”

“Well, I knew that,” Bucky said, caught somewhere between blushing and crying, and he settled for taking a long drink of his coffee, lying heavy on Steve, and resting his legs on top of Peggy's.

They started defrosting the ham mid-morning, and Bucky made dinner rolls while Steve drew the short straw and went to go spend a century standing in lines so he could top up their liquor collection. Peggy made the living room presentable, and she and Bucky took advantage of Steve's long absence to pile on some more Christmas decorations. (Steve thought tinsel was tacky. Bucky and Peggy had been surprised to learn that their husband was an actual enemy of fun.)

Bucky was lifting Peggy up so she could nail some 'mistletoe' (aka a pretty cluster of leaves that Bucky had found in Prospect Park and smuggled home) over the door to the kitchen when the doorbell went.

Peggy gave the nail one last mighty strike and Bucky just about didn't drop her as they both made a beeline for the front door.

“Becca!” Peggy sang out, while Bucky tried to elbow her out of the way.

“She's my sister,” he argued, chasing Peggy down the stairs.

“She's my sister-in-law,” Peggy shot back, jumping onto the bannister and riding it, side-saddle, all the way to the entryway.

“How can you _do_ that?” Bucky screeched, leaping the final few steps to land heavily right behind Peggy. His longer arms meant he technically opened the door first, even though Peggy was in front of him.

“Hi!” they yelled in unison.

Becca froze in place for a moment, then grinned and flung herself at them. “Hi!”

Peggy laughed and pulled her into a huge hug, Bucky's arms coming around both women a moment later. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Becca giggled and kissed Peggy on the cheek, and then Bucky. “Oh my God, thank you so, so much for having me over. This is gonna be so great.”

“Darling, of course,” Peggy said, ushering her inside, while Bucky got her big duffel. “You're family.”

Becca's smile was dazzling. “Wait'll you see what I brought to add to the decorations.”

Bucky stopped dead in the middle of the stairs. “You didn't.”

“I did!” she sang out.

“ _What_?” Peggy demanded, arm still around Becca's waist.

“You'll see,” Becca all but trilled. “Bucky, honey, you gotta come in sometime.”

“No I don't?” he tried, and trudged up the stairs after them.

“Yeah you do,” Becca said when he got into the relative warmth of the apartment. “Check this out, Pegs. Old family heirloom.” She took her bag from her brother and zipped it open, and pulled out a small brown box.

“You know what's great about new family?” Bucky mused out loud. “ _New family traditions_.”

“Oh, shut up and go bake something, Buckaroo,” she said smugly.

Peggy's eyes actually lit up at the 'Buckaroo', and Bucky sighed. Loudly.

Becca opened the small box up and pulled out a crumpled sheet of very old tissue paper, followed by the ugliest ceramic Santa head known to mankind. It was on a stand, and she set the stand on the sill of their one window.

“That's...something,” Peggy offered.

“It gets better,” Becca said gleefully.

“That's a new meaning for the word 'better',” Bucky said.

Becca set Peggy in front of the ceramic Santa head. “Clap your hands,” she said.

“What? Okay.” Peggy clapped her hands.

The ceramic Santa's eyes lit up with a cold blue glow. The ceramic Santa's head began to rock back and forth. A very tinny rendition of 'I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus' began to play.

“Becca,” said Peggy.

“Why have you not destroyed this thing?” Bucky whined. “How did you even _get_ it?”

“I stole it when we were leaving last Christmas,” Becca said gleefully.

“Becca,” Peggy repeated.

“Yes, sister-in-law?”

Peggy turned to her and looked at her very seriously. “Thank you for bringing this amazing creation into my life. This is a _new family tradition_ , and my Christmas will never be complete without a singing demonic Santa for the rest of my life.”

Bucky sighed when they looked at him. “No one tell Steve and then someone clap when he's standing near it, okay? I wanna see how high he'll jump.”

(Not ten minutes after Steve got back, Bucky got his answer. It wasn't so much a 'how high' as a 'screech like an alley cat, levitate, and literally hide behind Peggy'.)

With Becca and a large bottle of gin helping, they got dinner cooked and the table set just as the sun was setting. The apartment was actually warm from the oven being on, and they'd made an exception for the holidays and turned on every light in the place, making the rooms glow. Peggy had managed to turn an old bedsheet into a passable tablecloth, and Steve had dug out his mother's old silver, and in the end, with candles and lights and the demonic Santa serving as centerpiece, it was a respectable Christmas Eve spread.

“Who wants to say an awkward grace?” Steve said.

“Oh! You have that tradition too?” Becca asked him.

“You do it,” Peggy told Bucky, and they all joined hands.

Bucky was quiet for a moment, then spoke. “In this, the darkest time of the year, people have always come together, to create a light in the darkness. To eat, and to love one another, and to remember that in sorrow, in darkness, in despair, there is always hope. This year...on this night, the people around this table are my light, and that is the greatest blessing of my life. To be with the people I love, and who love me, and I am grateful for it every day.”

He was holding Becca and Peggy's hands, and Steve was across from him, face softly lit by the candles, and Bucky swore he saw everything glow brighter for a moment, a shout against the dark, a reminder, a blessing, everything he needed most in his life.

He squeezed the girls' hands, and smiled at Steve, and they lingered for a breath, then time restarted and the potatoes were being passed and Peggy was slicing the ham and Becca clapped so that demonic Santa could be a part of the night too, and Bucky wound up laughing so hard he barely had a chance to eat.

They lingered over pie and heavy red wine, everyone telling stories of Christmases when they were growing up. Just as he was taking a big drink of wine, laughing at one of Steve's imitations of himself age five and half, Bucky's phone – previously forgotten on a counter – went off.

He frowned and got up to check it, and bit his lip when he saw who it was.

“Hon? Everything okay?” Peggy asked.

“It's Mom, isn't it?” Becca said, and made a face. “You don't have to answer it, Buck.”

He answered it, though. “Hi?”

“Honey? It's your mother.”

“I know,” he said. “Um. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” she said, sounding distracted. “Is your sister there?”

“Uh. Yes?”

“Can I speak to her?”

Bucky covered the phone with his hand. “Becks?” he said softly. “She wants to talk to you.”

“No,” Becca said, face red.

“Okay,” Bucky said, and went back to the phone while Steve touched Becca's shoulder, clearly comforting her. “Mom, she really doesn't want to talk right now.”

His mother made a noise. “Well. Are you with your...partners?”

“Yeah. I live with them, remember?” he asked patiently.

She made another noise, a bit sniffy.

“It's okay, we're married,” he said before he could stop himself, and he grinned, looking at his little family around the kitchen table. They were broke as hell and he'd almost died and Steve's arm still ached and Becca lived too far away, but they were his and he was happier here, in this too-cold apartment and with a limp that was taking its time going away than he ever had been before in his life. “Mom, it's a great Christmas. I'm so happy.”

“That's...good,” she finally said, sounding uncertain.

“I have to go, Mom,” he said gently. She was trying, he supposed. “You have a good night.”

“Bye, Bucky,” she said, her voice calm. She never had shown emotion. Bucky sort of wondered how he'd turned out the way he did.

He ended the call and left his phone on the counter, going over to stand beside Steve and smile down at him when he put his arm around Bucky's hips.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Bucky shrugged. “She's about the same. Hey, you gonna finish that pumpkin pie?”

Steve sighed and speared the last bit, and fed it to Bucky. At least he got a kiss, in payment.

They did the bare minimum to clean up, topped up their wineglasses, and went back into the living room to drape over various pieces of furniture and be very full. Bucky found himself on the sofa with Steve, and smiled and snuggled closer.

“Hey you. You okay?” Steve murmured. “You're limping worse.”

“'m fine,” Bucky assured him, wriggling so he was maximally comfortable. “I jumped down some stairs earlier is all, it'll pass.”

“I don't want to know.”

Bucky giggled and kissed his cheek. “Remember last year, when you wouldn't let go of me?”

“Uh huh.” Steve rubbed his thumb along the knobs of Bucky's spine. “You doing okay?”

“I'm doing amazing,” Bucky assured him. “I...don't miss home,” he admitted. “Indiana, I mean. I really don't.”

“That would be because it's a shithole,” Becca offered, slumping on a beanbag.

“Well, yeah,” Bucky admitted. “You doin' okay, kid?”

She shrugged.

“Hey, Becks,” he said softly. “It's okay. Whatever you're feeling, it's okay.”

“That's what my therapist says,” she said, and smiled at him. “I'm so angry at them. They don't care about their kids.”

“Their loss,” Bucky said, and shrugged.

“Our gain,” Peggy said gleefully. “Also, demonic Santa.”

Becca giggled, and went for the plate of cookies Peggy had brought in with them.

They all talked lazily into the night – not about the past, this time, but about the future. England hadn't happened that year; not when money proved to be short and the bills large, and Bucky spent longer between the end of one contract and starting at Stark Industries than he'd expected. Maybe next year, was the verdict, maybe in early summer, or the next autumn.

Becca daydreamed about finding a job at a gallery that didn't suck, and she and Steve bitched lazily about the art scene. Peggy put in another request for a new tattoo, to be designed in the new year, and Becca shyly asked when Steve's next opening was.

(“For you?” he'd asked, delighted. “Honey, anytime.”

“I'm paying you,” she said. “By the way.”

“Over my dead body.”

Becca had shrugged. “I'm sneakier than you are.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Don't take that bet,” Bucky had said quickly. “She really is.”

Steve had made an annoyed face, but Becca grinned smugly, and that was that.)

Midnight came, and distant bells rang in Christmas Day, and they all toasted each other one final time, before going to bed.

Bucky and Steve made up the sofa for Becca, making sure to pile on the blankets and pillows until she protested. They bid her goodnight and went down the short corridor to the little bedroom, where Peggy was already changed and hiding under the covers. (Keeping the heating on cost money; blankets and each other didn't.) The two men got changed quickly, Bucky slipping his prosthetic off with a wince.

“Let me see,” Steve said, and Bucky shivered, shirtless, for the few moments it took Steve to check the soft, scarred skin over. “No bruising that I can see, love. This feel okay?” he asked, running his hand over the pad of skin and muscle.

Bucky made a face. “It doesn't hurt, exactly, just...sensitive.”

Steve kissed the top of his shoulder. “Aw, love.” He firmly set Bucky in the middle of the big bed, Peggy quickly cuddling up to his back, her arms coming around his waist. Steve leaned over and kissed Peggy, lingering a little, then settled against Bucky's front, the two of them practically nose-to-nose.

“This is what Christmas should be,” Bucky sighed happily, body held between his partners.

Peggy kissed the back of his neck. “This is what Christmas will always be, for you,” she promised him. “People who love you, who care about you.”

Steve rubbed Bucky's thigh, following the thick scar. “People who are so lucky to have you,” he said softly, and Bucky smiled, reaching between them to wrap his hand around Steve's left forearm.

“I love you both,” he said, and closed his eyes, the three of them drawing closer together, Steve gently pulling his arm free so he could stretch it over Bucky's waist and hold onto Peggy.

Last year, they had felt wrong, had wished they didn't exist, had wished they weren't made wrong and such a source of pain. Had been so afraid, and so sad, and this year – Bucky was broke and still healing and worried about his lovers, but _God_ he felt right in his body, in this bed, between these people. There was no comparing them, really.

 

As was right for Christmas Day, Bucky woke up early, even as warm and comfortable as he was, curled between his lovers in the chilly bedroom. He carefully wriggled to the bottom of the bed and out from under the covers, leaving Steve and Peggy undisturbed.

(And because it _was_ still cold in the room, he gently shifted the blankets so they were both covered, and was rewarded with Peggy absolutely adorably sighing and snuggling into her pillow. He kissed her cheek, because he could, and gave himself a moment to be overwhelmed by how much he loved the people in this bed.)

Bucky walked softly into the kitchen, only to find Becca up as well, and with the coffee started.

“Breakfast?” he whispered, and she grinned and nodded. 

Between them, they got everything prepped or made for a vast Christmas breakfast, and it was worth it when Peggy, still clearly mostly asleep, stumbled into the kitchen just as Bucky was showing off his one-handed egg breaking technique to his deeply unimpressed sister.

“Gnah?” she managed.

“Happy Christmas!” the two siblings chorused, and Bucky came over to pull her into a slightly eggy hug.

“Unh? Oh. Wow. It smells good in here,” Peggy said, valiantly trying to make sense while still mostly asleep. (And probably a little hungover. They'd had a _lot_ to drink the night before.)

“Here,” Becca said, handing her a mug of coffee. “Bucky, pretty sure the cinnamon buns are done.”

“Can you get them?” he asked, cracking the last egg into a bowl and reaching for the whisk. “It's easier with two hands.”

“No problem.” She pulled the perfectly-baked buns out of the oven and set them to cool. “Oh, here, use this,” she said, setting the silicon pad down on the counter and moving the big bowl onto it. “Sorry, just grabbed the first thing I saw.”

“No problem hon.” Now he could whisk a bit faster, assured the bowl wouldn't move, and Becca slipped away behind him to finish cutting up some fruit.

“How much are you making?” Peggy asked tentatively, after considerable time had passed.

“Christmas Day is for watching movies and doing nothing and eating,” Becca informed her. 

“Barnes family tradition?” Peggy asked.

“Oh, Christ no. We used to have to go to church then visit eleven thousand relatives then go home for desperately sad leftovers,” Bucky explained. “This is the rejection of tradition by adult Barneses who see no need to get out of pyjamas all day.”

Peggy giggled, taking another sip of her coffee. “Can I help with anything?”

“You can sit there and keep us company,” Becca told her. 

“Or go curl up with Steve,” Bucky told her. 

“Bite your tongue. I get first dibs on the food, this way,” she said gleefully.

Eventually, Bucky went and roused Steve (and took his time about it, when  a surprisingly awake Steve pulled him down onto the bed for some very nice kisses. And a little light groping. And Bucky informing him that his  _sister_ was in the kitchen and they were going to have to lie there and think about baseball for a minute) and the eggs got finished just in time, and all four of them stuffed themselves stupid.

Peggy got told off for doing the washing up when she should have been calling home to talk to her parents and brother, and Bucky dispatched her to the bedroom while Steve and Becca tackled most of the dishes, Bucky in charge of drying and putting things away for later. They'd eat for days on what they'd made, and he was already making up containers to send home with Becca.

They'd agreed weeks ago that, as everyone was having money problems, they would have a present-free Christmas, so the rest of the day was spent sprawled on various pieces of furniture, eating leftovers, and watching old movies – and, in Peggy's honor, the Queen's Christmas Address.

Becca finally got the energy to leave just after lunch (or what would have been lunch, if that hadn't been continuously grazing all morning). She hugged everyone goodbye, Steve last of all.

“Hey,” he whispered to her. “Love you, sis.”

She grinned and hugged him back tightly. “Love you too, bro,” she whispered back. “Thank you. So much.”

“You're welcome,” Steve said, and they pretended she'd only thanked him for breakfast, or maybe letting her crash the night.

Bucky walked her out, and came back shivering. “Christ, it's a cold snap out there.”

“Damn, we'll have to spend the rest of the day in bed,” Steve said dryly. “Where it's nice and warm.”

“Yeah, it sucks,” Bucky informed him, and slipped his arm around Peggy's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. “You okay, love? Hangover?”

“Yeah, a bit,” she said. “And homesick.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky pulled her in for a soft kiss. “I'm sorry. What can I do?”

“Invent portal technology?” she said, and wiped her eyes. “I'll be fine, ignore me.”

“Seriously?” Bucky asked her softly. “I won't fuss if that makes it worse.”

Peggy shrugged. “'m just...sad. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Bucky smiled a little. “I miss my Mom too.”

“Oh, Bucky.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and they stayed like that for a little while, until Steve gently ushered them into the warm little bedroom and tucked them in, cuddling on Peggy's other side.

They took turns kissing her, and undressing her and themselves, their bodies sliding together. Steve and Bucky kissed over her shoulder, openmouthed and hungry, and Peggy moaned, at the looks on their faces and at the way Steve was cupping her breasts, thumbs rubbing on her nipples.

Bucky gave a deep groan, and she could feel his cock filling against her belly. Their kiss ended, and Bucky turned his attention to her, trailing his mouth down her neck while Steve slipped one hand down her stomach, just sliding it between her legs, fingers and palm gently cupped around her labia. When Bucky started to kiss just behind her ear, his soft little moans barely audible, Peggy gave a gasp, her hips already arching up.

“I want you,” Bucky whispered, and Steve slipped his fingers between her labia, stroking the wetness of her vulva. “Oh, God, Peg, I want you so bad.”

“How fancy do we want to get?” Steve murmured.

Bucky chuckled, his voice rich and rough and moving right through her. “What do you have in mind?”

“You and me, at the same time.” He kissed Bucky sweetly, then Peggy, lingering. “If you lie on your back, she can ride you, and I can take her from behind. Here,” he said, fingertip ghosting across her hole.

Peggy made a deep, gutteral sound, and Steve laughed.

“You like that don't you?” he purred, and slipped his finger into her, barely. “You remember that?”

“Oh my _God_ of course _you_ remember,” she growled, and moaned when Bucky kissed her breast, mouth open and wet. “Oh, fuck, yes, yes I want that.”

“Right after we started dating you, we were having an afternoon...rather like this one,” Steve explained to Bucky, grinning. “And we were talking about what we wanted to do with _you_ to play with too.”

“Seriously?” Bucky giggled, and kissed Peggy. “That's lovely, and I want to hear everything you talked about. And it _is_ easier if you ride me  when I'm down the prosthetic.”

She caressed the place where his arm should be. “Uh huh.” She leaned over and kissed the smooth skin, smiling when she felt Bucky shudder. “On your back, love. Please.”

Bucky rolled over to obey, and groaned when she knelt above him and slowly, slowly lowered herself onto his cock. He was big, but she was relaxed, ready, dizzy with the idea of  it all .

“I love you,” Steve breathed into her ear. Bucky, clever man that he was, reached for the bottle of lube and handed it to Steve. “My Peg, my gorgeous girl, everything I wanted.” He coated his fingers, and more, and started to gently work a fingertip into her, soothing her with kisses dappled across her neck and shoulders.

Bucky was quiet, letting Steve shower her with words, but he stroked her thigh, was good and held still while Steve got her ready. He ghosted his thumb across her clit, but pulled back when she  made an unhappy  noise – she wanted to draw this out. Steve kept murmuring to her and Bucky kept touching her, the two of them keeping her warm and relaxed as one finger became two, her husband and best friend at her back, slowly opening her until he was sliding on a condom and gently nudging her to lean forward, right into Bucky's chest.

She  moaned when Steve started to push his way in, and Bucky kissed her, kept kissing her until she was  gasping for breath , both of them filling her.  H er two men so close to each other, and impossibly close to her now. Peggy moaned and pushed herself up, both of them so big in her.

“Good?” Bucky asked, still stroking her face.

“Oh _God_ yes,” she ground out, and started moving, rocking between the two of them.

Bucky's eyes practically rolled back into his head, and she could only imagine the view from his angle, the two of them atop him, and then it was just friction, moving between them, Bucky's hips coming up to meet hers, then Steve snapping his hips forward as she pushed back into him.

The three of them were slick with sweat, with touching and kissing and Peggy figured out a rhythm to encourage them, nudged them to fuck her properly, her body held between her men, friction and heat and moans and Bucky came first with a great shout, his body going still, his cock shaking inside of her, and she  _squeezed_ and made him wail again. 

Steve reached around her and rubbed his fingers on her clit, rough and fast until she was shaking and coming in his arms, and his hips hit her ass one more time and he was coming, gasping behind her.

Her orgasm seemed to last  forever , until she realized that Bucky had slid down the bed and Steve was holding her up so that  she was practically sitting on his face and he was lapping greedily, his tongue flicking at her clit, and she whimpered and begged – whether to stop or not wasn't clear – until he pulled another orgasm from her.

“No, no, no, oh God no,” she begged, feeling Steve reach between her legs just as Bucky got out of the way. “Oh, oh, oh, fuck, don't stop, don't stop --” Electricity seemed to arc through her body again, raw and worn but still so, so good, her nerves lighting up. This time, they gave her a few seconds to recover and catch her breath.

“Oh, fuck you too,” she moaned as Bucky played the tip of her weakest vibrator across her nipples. “Go to hell, fuck you, oh _fuck_ don't stop or I'll kill you, I hate you oh _God_ ,” the words came out of her as she leaned forward on all fours, Bucky still under her, mouth on one nipple and vibrator circling the other.

“I promised you four,” Bucky said and smirked. “You can take it out of my ass later.”

“I'll beat you black and blue for this,” she growled, and moaned when this made Bucky gasp and surge up for a filthy kiss.

“Promise?” he breathed.

“You won't be able to sit down until New Year's,” she swore, and screamed when Steve held the tip of another vibrator at her vulva, slowly starting to slip it in. “Oh my God, _fuck both of you_.”

“You did,” Bucky pointed out smugly, and she roared and went for his throat, kissing and biting and making him wail and Steve fucked her from behind, the vibrator hitting deep inside her and then everything went white and calm and starry.

They were holding her, her men. The softest kisses, wiping her down and tucking her between warm blankets. They must have been trading off cleaning up, because first she was in Bucky's arms. (Well, arm. She would always know him by feel, forever, and she felt smug about this.) Then she was in Steve's and he was crooning to her, stroking her hair.  T he n Bucky was there too and she drifted, her husbands holding her and kissing her, telling her how beautiful she was and perfect and good, and all the stupid things they liked to say after sex.

When Peggy woke up, it wasn't much later, but enough that the two of them had shut up and were just cuddling her between them.

“So that.” She paused and swallowed. “I was not aware my body could do that.”

Bucky chuckled and kissed her cheek affectionately. “Me either. You were a star, darling.”

“Darling yourself,” she mumbled, and stretched, and winced. “Steve, you're my deputized top. Beat Bucky black and blue over this, please.”

“How come he gets all the reward?” Steve whined, and pouted prettily. The asshole.

“I know a devious Barnes idea when I see one,” she said, and yawned. “Ugh, is there any food?”

“Enough for an army. Stay here, love, and I'll bring you some,” Steve said, and kissed her, then kissed her again. “Oh, Peg. I love you.”

“Love you too,” She grinned at him and sat up with Bucky's help, leaning against him. “Seriously. Ass-beating is delayed until I can feel my legs again.”

Bucky giggled, and nuzzled her ear. “Not sorry.”

“Well of course not, you're incorrigible.” She laughed and stretched and flopped over, wrapping around him. “Oh my God, that was amazing.”

“Yeah, you were,” Bucky teased her, and gave her a little tickle. Over-sensitive, she shrieked and giggled, squirming away from him – and then right back into his arms so she could get kisses.

“You were pretty fucking amazing yourself,” she told him warmly, and stretched again. It was only mid-afternoon – plenty of time to run off all the energy she had. She felt like she was glowing with it, alive and full of love and lust and well and thoroughly fucked.

Steve came back with food, and she sang his praises, because he'd made her a giant ham sandwich with waffles in place of bread, and there was a slab of pie swimming in whipped cream that they all shared, making sure to get messy and lick the cream off of one another.

When she'd finally eaten her fill (about double what Bucky had, even with her teasing him and hand-feeding him choice bits), Steve gave her a resounding kiss and took the dishes back into the kitchen.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, even as she was wriggling out from under the blankets. “ I love you, darling. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas. Buckaroo.” Peggy snuggled close against him even as he yelped a protest at the nickname, head on his bare shoulder, and let herself rest, just for a moment.   


 

In the end,  both Bucky  _and_ Steve could barely sit down at New Years, and even then they  definitely aimed for the most cushioned chairs.  Bucky's bruises didn't  fade fully until Epiphany, and he was insufferably pleased  and smug about it  the entire time, Peggy thought. (And often told him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was very fun to write :)


	15. Post-Election

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so this is like part 1 of 798 of me working through my election-related feelings.

“Okay, I'm at the anger stage of grief, _and_ we're basically out of food,” Steve announced to the bedroom. “Who wants to do a grocery run with me?”

Peggy made a raw sound of rejection and snuggled further under the blankets.

“I'll go,” Bucky said, pushing themselves up. “Lemme get my arm on and get dressed.”

Steve took over cuddling-Peggy duties while Bucky pried themselves out of bed and got their arm on. Tight skinny jeans and a knee-length dress followed, and their biggest, stompiest boots.

They mused that they would probably have put their rats-nest of hair up no matter what, but this would work too.

“You want anything, baby?” they asked, lying down beside Peggy and kissing her softly. “Hey, gimme a hug, I got two arms now.”

Peggy rolled over against them. “A four-year coma.”

“Nope. I'd miss my beautiful girl too much,” Bucky said, and kissed her temple. “I love you, Pegs. You gonna be okay on your own?”

“Uh huh.” She looked at them seriously. “Stay close to Steve, okay?”

“Beautiful, we still live in _Brooklyn_ ,” Bucky pointed out with a smile. “But I promise, I will.”

Steve curled against her back, and they held her for a long moment until she wriggled and sent them off shopping.

 

Steve, predictably, wrapped an arm around Bucky's shoulders as soon as they hit the street. Bucky, predictably, snuggled into his side.

“I got you,” Steve murmured, and Bucky rested their head on his shoulder for a moment, nuzzling a little.

“Hey! Bucky! Steve!”

They both looked up and Bucky's face broke into a huge smile. “Robin! Hey, how are you?”

Robin ran across the tree-lined street and straight into a hug from both of them. Sie was petite, with bright blue hair, and lived just a few streets over. “Terrible, actually. You two?”

“Furious,” Steve said.

“Depressed,” Bucky said, and kissed Robin's cheek. “Oh, they/them, please.”

“I figured.” Robin stood up on tip-toe and hugged Bucky tightly. “We'll get through this too, right?”

“Uh huh.” Bucky rubbed zir back. “You okay walking home?”

“We are literally the only people out. Also, Brooklyn.” Robin gave them a funny little smile. “I'm okay. I'm going to Amy's, but I'll text you when I get there?”

“Please,” Steve said, slipping an arm around Bucky's shoulders again. “Hey, come over sometime for coffee, okay?”

“And to see the dress I'm working on,” Bucky added, and Robin giggled.

“I will, promise. Love you both.”

“Love you,” Bucky said, and kissed zir cheek. “See you around.”

“You too. We'll get through this, guys.” Robin headed down the street away from them, and Bucky put their arm around Steve's waist for the rest of the walk to the store.

Grocery shopping went uneventfully, with Steve pointedly balancing out cupcakes with some actual vegetables.

(“If there was ever a time for comfort food, now is it.”

“You can be comforted _and_ not get scurvy, Buck.”

“That's what lemon cupcakes are for.”)

“Coffee?” Bucky asked, as they wandered past their usual place.

“Always.”

 

The store was quiet, even for midday, and Coulson was behind the counter.

“Hey guys. Holding up okay?” he greeted them.

Steve shrugged. “Okay. You?”

He smiled wryly. “I've only cried about four times today. I sent Maria home to try and sleep.”

“Yeah, it's that kinda day,” Bucky said, and yawned. “Hey, can we get three large, uh,” he checked the coffees available, “Idido's, please.”

“And three cinnamon buns,” Steve added.

“Coming right up. You guys want a carrier?”

“Yes, please,” Bucky said, and proceeded to get in a quiet elbow fight with Steve to determine who was going to pay. Bucky and their metal elbow smugly won.

“Pastries are on the house today,” Coulson told them, ringing them up. “Not like a danish is gonna restore the ACA but, you know.”

“Yeah.” Steve gave him a tired smile while Bucky paid. “You do what you can. Thanks, man.” He wiped his eyes, and leaned over the counter to give a very surprised (and pleased) Coulson a hug.

 

“That might literally be the best thing to happen to him in 2016,” Bucky teased as they headed home.

“There's not a whole lot of competition there.” Steve smiled over at Bucky, then leaned over and kissed them. “You're so gorgeous. I love you. Thank you.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky smiled at him, sweet and soft. “Love you too. C'mon, though, I want the coffee to still be hot for Peggy.”

Steve nodded, and they walked home together in the chilly winter air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	16. New Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set just a few weeks after the end of Strike Gold.

“Would it make the two of you feel better to take my picture in front of the house, like it was my first day at school?” Bucky asked.

“Yes,” Peggy and Steve chorused.

“You can't,” he informed them, and kissed them each in turn. “I'll text you both at lunch, I promise.”

“You'd better,” Steve said, and pulled him into a huge hug. “ _Promise_ me you'll take it easy?”

“I promise. They know I can't stand for hours or walk a lot yet,” Bucky soothed. “Steve, love, it's my first day. I'll spend the whole time waiting for someone to get my e-mail up and running and reading eight thousand HR documents.”

“Still.” Steve kissed him again. 

“Bye,” Peggy said dryly, and Bucky laughed and kissed her on her forehead.

“I'll miss you too,” he said affectionately.

“No I won't. You're gonna work from home half the week still.”

Bucky laughed harder, slung his backpack over one shoulder and left for his first day at Stark Industries, ignoring the hell out of his husband and wife, who were actually crazy people.

 

**Bucky:** Oh my God, you guys actually held off texting me. I'm so proud.

**Bucky:** Fess up, who forgot their phone at home?

**Peggy:** Steve did! He's reading over my shoulder and side-eying me.

**Bucky:** Of course he is.

**Peggy:** WELL???

**Peggy:** siodjkl

**Bucky:** Stop fighting over Peggy's phone you guys.

**Bucky:** 1\. I am three hours into my first day, so calm down.

**Peggy:** uh huh tell us how it is are they aware you are brilliant yet? Has Tony Stark hit on you?

**Bucky:** Oh my GOD.

**Bucky:** I have not seen Tony Stark, so no. And it's awesome. You guys, it's so awesome here.

**Bucky:** I've got an office, I'm not even hot-desking. Well, I've got a cubicle thingy. Everything was already set up when I got here this morning and I spent all day in meetings. Sitting-down meetings, I see you frowning Steve. Everyone's very busy, but seems friendly enough. And it's just...amazing. I'm going to do the best work of my life here, honestly.

**Peggy:** Well, of course you are

**Peggy:** OBVIOUSLY

**Peggy:** I'm so proud of you

**Bucky:** Aww, guys :)

**Bucky:** Still wrapping my head around it but you won't believe this.

**Bucky:** I'm in the prosthetics department :)

**Peggy:** THAT'S SO COOL

**Bucky:** I know! Obv I'm mostly doing security on the back-end but I'm right here! And some of my skills are transferrable into working on a project I can't tell you about right now but which...look. you guys are going to love it. It'll directly affect me, and it'll affect you two.

**Bucky:** It's really groundbreaking stuff and it's SO COOL. Just the stuff I have access to here, it's mindblowing. It's intricate, and...beautiful. The systems here are beautiful.

**Peggy:** You sound so happy love

**Bucky:** I am. I'm sitting on a bench in the sun in the middle of Manhattan and I'm so happy.

**Bucky:** um. how're you guys?

**Peggy:** Steve just basically melted, it's super-gross, so thanks for that or whatever.

**Bucky:** ahahaha

**Bucky:** I'll be home around six, okay loves?

**Peggy:** Excellent. Be good to you, please.

**Peggy:** You too, Peg. Love you loads.

**Peggy:** Love you too, Buck.

 

Bucky let himself in and braced himself for...he wasn't sure. A Steve-explosion? He was sort of exhausted and sort of in pain, and sort of desperately hoping that he could have a breather first.

“In the kitchen!” came Peggy's voice, and he followed it into the little room.

“You're okay,” Peggy assured him, coming over for a kiss. “I sent Steve out to buy some wine.”

“I really, really do love him,” Bucky said, and she laughed.

“I had him before you did,” she teased. “I know what it's like, sweetheart.” She pulled him into a warm hug, though only briefly, letting go so he could sit down and she could go back to prepping for dinner.

“Can I help with anything?” Bucky asked. “I'm not _that_ tired.”

“You can chop the apricots,” she said, and set the cutting board in front of him. “No, stay sitting, you were limping pretty bad.” Peggy sighed and smiled wryly at him. “You chop, I'll give my shoulder a break.”

“Deal,” Bucky said, and set to work, mincing in almonds and cardamom pods too, to roast and add to the couscous cooking on the stove.

He was relaxed when Steve came home, and rather enjoyed his kiss hello.

“How were you guys days, by the way?” he asked, once the wine had been poured out and they could settle in. It was a little odd, he realized, not already knowing.

Peggy shrugged. “The usual. You didn't miss anything. Not even midday sex,” she teased, and Bucky stuck his tongue out at her.

“I'm working my way through the pile of people who were willing to reschedule,” Steve admitted, ducking his head and smiling. “I'm back to the shop again after dinner, actually.”

“That's awesome, honey,” Bucky said warmly. “C'mere, give me your hand, I'm done with my part.” He took Steve's right hand in both of his and started to massage it, stretching out the tired muscles.

“Thanks. So, uh, sounds like you had a good day?” Steve asked. He was still jumpy about being taken care of. Bucky was trying to not take it personally, but it was a thing to work on.

“Really good, yeah. It's just...everything I could ever have wanted access to, I've got,” Bucky said, a little dreamily. “And to be able to work in prosthetics, even indirectly, that's amazing. Really special.” He grinned at the two of them. “There's some very cool stuff I'll probably be a guinea pig for, too.”

“ _Awesome_ ,” Steve said, and squeezed Bucky's metal hand lightly. “I'm really glad it's gonna be a good fit for you.”

“Me too. It's head and shoulders above where I was before, but they're willing to train me in what I don't know, and I'm going to be so _useful_ , and it's basically all so cool. The R&D floor alone...” Bucky sighed happily and Peggy laughed, coming over to kiss the top of his head.

“Nerd,” she teased, and he nodded happily.

“Yup.” He knocked his head gently against her hip. “I'm back for half a day tomorrow, but then I can work from home in the afternoon.”

“Good,” Steve said firmly. “And they're not keeping you on your feet?”

“No, baby,” Bucky said, very patiently he thought. “Honestly, you know my work – I'm glued to a computer. I'm tired from figuring out new stuff, but my leg is fine. Promise.”

“Good.”

A little more catching up, and dinner was ready, Bucky making his lovers sit so he could serve everyone, delivering bowls with kisses. They ate together in the warm kitchen, and Steve cleaned up, taking his turn at the work.

Bucky and Peggy left him to it, opting to cuddle on the sofa in the living room, Peggy lying down with her bad shoulder against Bucky's chest, her head resting on his shoulder. He kept his arms around her, kissing as they liked, or talking quietly.

“Hey guys, everything's cleaned up.” Steve leaned over the sofa and kissed them in turn. “I gotta get back to work.”

Bucky made a sad face. “Boo. Go make beautiful art on people, okay?”

Steve gave them a half-smile. “I know. I want to stay and cuddle too.”

“We'll spoil you later,” Peggy promised, reaching up and stroking her husband's cheek. “Promise. You need some loving.”

Steve laughed. “Aw, c'mon, I'm fine.”

“Well, I'm not,” Bucky teased. “I want my Stevie.” He arched up for another kiss. “I love you. If I'm asleep when you get in, wake me up?”

“The fuck I will.”

“I'm serious!” Bucky tapped Steve's lips with his metal forefinger. “Please. I want to kiss you goodnight. I have to wake up early tomorrow, so I probably won't see you then. Husband.”

It was so easy to make Steve melt it wasn't even fun anymore.

“All right, love,” Steve murmured. “I'll wake you up.”

“Wake me up and I'll unman you,” Peggy offered, and Steve laughed. She'd be roused with a sweet kiss late that night, and they both knew it.

Another round of kisses, and Steve headed out for his evening shift, while his spouses cuddled on the sofa.

“I'm so glad you're doing something that makes you happy,” Peggy said, kissing his neck.

“Me too,” Bucky said fervently. “This is just...I can't find words for it, Peg. It's what I was made to do.”

“Nah, you were made for me and Steve,” Peggy teased, and giggled when Bucky considered this and shrugged acquiescence. “I'm joking, you dingbat. Of course you were made to make the world a better, safer place. Of course you were made so that other people could have better prosthetics.” She smiled and nuzzled his cheek. “ _And_ you were made for loving.”

“Both as an active, and a passive verb,” Bucky observed, and hugged her, careful of her shoulder. “What about you, sweetheart? All three of us know you're better than bookkeeping.”

Peggy laughed. “Maybe. I don't think I'd like working in an office. I wouldn't mind taking on more work though – the shop doesn't need me _that_ much. Been thinking about freelancing more. Working for people in the community, especially.”

“That sounds fantastic,” Bucky said warmly. 

Peggy hesitated. “And. I've thought about going back to school. I want to get a proper degree. And, um. Do something like...if people are getting shorted, or cheated. I want to be the one who finds it out, and stops it. I don't know  _how_ though.”

“We'll find out how,” Bucky promised. “And you'll do that. I know you will, Peg.”

She smiled at him, shy and a little funny. “You think? I don't know if I'm even good at this...”

“You are,” Bucky said firmly. “I know you are. You're whip-smart and you're dedicated and you're everything you need to be. We'll make it happen, beautiful. I promise you, with all my heart, it'll happen.”

“Okay.” Peggy laughed. “Okay! I didn't...I haven't told anyone yet,” she confessed. “Steve knows I'm sort of interested in it, but...yeah.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed softly. “It's a big deal. But you're be amazing. I know it.”

Peggy smiled at him and they kissed a little more, and cuddled, and gossiped until bedtime.

 

(Steve did wake them both up when he got in, as requested, and was firmly put in the middle of the bed, affectionate lovers curling on either side of them. Bucky fell back asleep mid-kiss, which was at least the cutest thing Steve had seen that week, if not that entire month.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a sequel I'll put up tomorrow or Sunday.
> 
> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	17. Promotion (with benefits)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO PORN.
> 
> This follows on from the last chapter, of course.

Steve Rogers let himself into his house, ready for maybe a cup of tea. Possibly a peaceful few hours to himself. At most, one or both lovers home, and a companionable evening to follow.

What he  _ got _ was Bucky Barnes lying on their back on the floor in satin and lace knickers and camisole. Their arms were tied together in front of them with a single stocking. The owner of the stocking, one Peggy Carter, was sitting on Bucky's face, dress hitched up around waist. She was moaning. Bucky was moaning.

Steve decided to join in on the involuntary noises coming out of your mouth party.

“Hi honey,” Peggy said brightly. “Guess what our spouse did and then didn't tell us about.” Bucky's head moved slightly, and the moaned loudly, grinding down on their face.

“I'm guessing you mean other than the thing they just did with their tongue?” Steve asked, coming over to kneel beside them and slipping his hand down Peggy's dress to cup a warm, soft breast.

“Nnnnh. No, stop for a moment,” she ordered, and slid back, sitting on the ground, her knees still on either side of Bucky's head. “ _They_ got a promotion already and didn't tell us.”

“It's not a promotion,” Bucky said, rolling their eyes. “You're so dramatic.”

“Do you have more responsibilities?” Peggy asked sweetly.

“Yeah, but it's not like my job title changed,” Bucky argued.

“Are you in charge of more people?”

“Yeah, but--”

“Are you getting a raise?” Peggy asked, and Bucky sighed.

“ _Yes_.”

“Honey, you got a promotion!” Steve cheered and leaned over to kiss Bucky thoroughly. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“It's not really a big thing,” Bucky said.

“You've been there like a hot minute. It's a big thing,” Peggy said. “Anyway, I only just now found out, so they're being punished.”

“So I see,” Steve said, and ran a fingertip along the lacy side of Bucky's knickers. “You look so beautiful, honey.”

“Thanks,” Bucky said softly, eyes dropping. The underwear was a soft peach, with white lace, and was pristine against Bucky's skin. They had done their eye makeup and still had the last vestiges of lipstick.

Steve leaned over for another kiss, groaning into Bucky's mouth, tasting them, tasting Peggy.

“Which do you want, darling?” Peggy asked, when Steve came up for air. “To top or bottom?”

Steve chewed his lip. “Mmm. Top them, but bottom for you, if that makes sense.”

“Perfectly.” Peggy smiled, delighted. “Bucky, darling, we're going to spit-roast you.”

Bucky moaned, and she raked her nails lightly across their chest.

“You'll go down on Steve, and I'll peg you from behind,” she said. And then, more gently, “Is that okay for your body right now?”

Bucky nodded hard. “Just don't touch my, um, c-cock.”

“What cock?” she murmured, scratching a line up their arm. “My love is nonbinary. They go down on me, and I fuck them. That's how it is. And after I _beat_ their _ass_ for not telling me important things, I love them all up.”

Bucky wailed, and Steve started kissing their throat as soon as it was bared. “They have the most gorgeous chest,” he murmured, and tugged the edge of the chemise down to bite down on Bucky's nipple. “I can't wait to have that pretty mouth on my cock.”

Bucky made a gasping sound, and twitched. “Want to lick 'n' kiss 'n' everything...”

“I'll go get everything we need,” Peggy said. “Steve, get them onto all fours, and get yourself undressed. You can spank Bucky too,” she added. “For not telling us. This is a punishment, after all.”

Steve grinned, delighted. “Thank you, Peg.”

“Good boy,” she said, and kissed him, and then Bucky. “Bucky, darling, keep your lingerie on, please. Steve, I want you entirely naked.”

“Yes ma'am,” they chorused, and Steve quickly got out of his clothes, tossing them onto a chair.

“You're so awesome,” he said fondly, and kissed Bucky again. “Congratulations. When did you get the promotion?”

“It's _not_ – ugh. Like a week ago?” Bucky said, rolling their eyes.

“What date did it take effect?”

“The fourteenth? Why's that important?” Bucky asked.

Steve hauled them up, and not gently either. “Because you get a spank for every day you didn't tell us. So that's eight smacks on your bottom, because you  _know_ better.”

Bucky moaned softly and their knees buckled. Steve caught them easily, smiling at the feel of soft fabric against his arms. “C'mon, lazy-ass. Over the ottoman, please. There we are.” He walked his spouse across the room to the big, padded cushion, and got them to kneel in front of it. He stretched Bucky's arms out in front of them, and stroked their back until they lay down, torso atop the cushion and bent at waist and knees.

“Eight in total,” Steve said. “Red, yellow, green?”

“Green, love,” Bucky said, their voice raspy.

“Good,” Steve said, and laid his palm on the lacy back of the knickers. “Oh, this is going to be so nice. I can't wait to see Peggy fuck you, sweetheart.”

“Less chat, more spanking,” Bucky demanded, and Steve let fly with a hard smack to the solid meat of Bucky's ass.

“Jesus, I _am_ rubbing off on you,” Steve said. “There's only room for one bratty sub here, babydoll, and that's me.”

Bucky started laughing, and yelped when Steve smacked his ass again. “Mother of God, your  _hand_ !”

Steve smiled and rubbed where he'd hit, diffusing the pain. “Uh huh.” Two more hard smacks in succession, and Bucky's ass was bright red under the soft white lace. Steve's cock was already dribbling at the tip. “That's halfway there.”

Bucky was breathing deeply, but evenly. “Eight's not even bad.”

“Oh, really?” Peggy said, reappearing with harness and dildo in hand. She'd grabbed the really thick one, Steve noticed happily. “What number are you up to, Steve?”

“Four, Peggy.”

“Hm.” Her eyes narrowed. “They get three more right now. The fourth one...we'll have to make that a surprise, won't we?”

Bucky made a soft, high-pitched sound. “Peggy, no, no, please...”

“You'll get it,” she promised. “But when _I_ decide. Steve, three more smacks please, right now. One after the other.”

Steve nodded and did as he was told, the slap of his hand on Bucky's bottom loud in the room. On the third one, Bucky cried out, almost a scream.

“Okay,” Peggy said, and knelt down by Bucky, stroking their hair. “Okay, babydoll. Color?”

“Green. Just...a lot,” Bucky managed. “Gonna come soon.”

“You come whenever you want,” Peggy said, and yanked their hair. “As long as you keep still enough to let me and Steve fuck you to our hearts' content.” She started undoing the stocking tying Bucky's arms together. “Your punishment isn't over, anyway. Will you tell us next time you get a promotion?”

Bucky giggled, and sniffled. “We-ell, considering how this is going for me...”

“Motherfucking masochists,” Peggy huffed. “Can't live with you, can't leave visible scars...”

Bucky giggled again.

“Don't you laugh at me,” Peggy scolded, getting them off of the ottoman and onto all fours. She squeezed their jaw in one hand. “God, Steve is so _easy_ compared to you. I just gotta order him to strip and go down on me, and he's a happy little bunny.”

“Yeah, but I'm _good_ ,” Bucky cooed, lowering their eyes and rolling their hips. “I behave for you.”

“For _her,_ yeah,” Steve muttered.

Peggy snickered. “Uh huh. You'd better.” She cupped her hand around their bottom, rubbing the abused skin gently. “Hmmm...nope, not yet,” she decided. “Steve, please stretch Bucky open for me while I get the dildo on.”

Steve was  _very_ quick to obey, squirting a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, and slipping Bucky's knickers down over their bottom. He leaned over and kissed the small of their back while he slipped the first finger in; just a fingertip at first, but pushing in gradually, adding a second finger soon.

Bucky held still, just gasping a little as Steve slowly stretched them, making sure to add ever more lube. “Okay?” he murmured softly.

“Wonderful,” Bucky whispered back. “I feel...full. Good.”

“Good.” Steve stole a kiss, or thought he had.

“Off,” Peggy said, shooing him away. “I didn't say you could kiss them.”

“You didn't say I couldn't,” Steve pointed out, and Peggy sighed loudly.

“Just shove your cock in their face, please,” she said, kneeling behind Bucky, the dildo jutting out from her mons. 

Steve grinned and knelt in front of Bucky, who happily wrapped their lips around the head of Steve's cock, and started suckling and licking, taking him down as slowly as they could.

“That will do,” Peggy murmured, and lined herself up, starting to push in. Bucky gave a little moan, as much as they could with a full mouth, and she pushed another inch in, matching them as they took Steve into their mouth.

She rubbed their hips, reached around to rub the satin over their belly. “So sweet and pretty,” she cooed. “My pretty, pretty Bucky, who wears such nice things for me.”

Bucky moaned again, louder, and Steve stroked their hair.

Peggy gave one more push and bottomed out, just as Bucky delicately, carefully, took Steve's entire length.

“Such a good darling,” she cooed. “Now we're going to fuck you, sweetheart, as hard as we can. If you need either of us to stop, pat our hips, all right.

Bucky made an agreeing sound, and Peggy laughed in delight. “Look at you – you're going to be so thoroughly fucked,” she said, voice warm with affection. “We're going to have such pleasure from your beautiful body. Now stay on all fours, darling, no matter what happens.” She squeezed their thighs, and thrust, shallow and easy. “Steve, you may move.”

Steve moaned and drew back, hips snapping as he thrust into Bucky's mouth.

Bucky looked up at them and made a low sound, eyelashes fluttering, red mouth stretched around Steve's cock, and in appreciation, Peggy gave another thrust, harder this time.

It was inevitable that they'd fall into a rhythm, fucking Bucky's mouth and ass in time, but it seemed to work, her and Steve picking up speed, Peggy in particular snapping her hips with hard abandon, Bucky moaning, hips rolling, screaming when Peggy hit their sweet spot, head bobbing to help Steve along.

It was nearly inevitable that Steve would come first, moaning, hips pumping until he fell back, his cock spent.

Their mouth finally free, Bucky gave over to all the sweet sounds they usually made, while Steve caught his breath and Peggy kept going until the smell of sex and the pleasure of it all and the rhythm against her clit had her shaking, holding onto Bucky's hips hard.

She pulled out with an obscene sound and fell back, panting. “Oh, fuck, darling,” she managed, and smacked Bucky's ass. “Come for me.”

Bucky moaned, their head down on their arms, and she saw the front of their knickers darken. She reached around, leaning over them, and pinched their nipples. “Come harder,” she hissed. “Show me how much you love us.”

Bucky made a raw, broken noise, and started to cry, clearly still caught in orgasm.

“That's my baby,” she crooned. “Come good and hard for us, darling.”

Bucky did, shaking for long minutes, still crying even as their body stilled. Peggy helped them lie on their side, and had Steve lie down with them, making sure to kiss and praise him – Steve was so good at this role, and she must never, ever forget to love on him too. Peggy made a mental note to set aside a night, soon, to make Steve the center of play.

“I'm going to get a blanket, and some water,” she told them, one hand stroking each head. “My beautiful, beautiful darlings. We'll cuddle up until we all come down, and then I'll take care of you a little more, because I want to.”

Steve smiled at her and nodded, tucking Bucky a little closer.

“I'll be back before you miss me,” she promised, and kissed them each one more time before hightailing it to the bedroom, coming back with pillows and their big duvet. 

Peggy tucked everyone in, herself included, right there on the living room floor, and opted to shove her way into the middle one arm around each lover. They came easy, snuggling into her, and she kissed them in turn, petting Steve's hair.

“Check in with me,” she requested softly, after some time had passed.

“Fine,” Steve said, and smiled at her. “I like topping Buck, but can I just bottom next time?”

“Absolutely,” she promised, and kissed him again. “We're going to have a big night for you, love. You're a dream and a doll, and you need to remember how much we love you.”

“I know,” Steve protested.

“Not enough,” Bucky said, voice raw. They sat up and leaned over, kissing Steve deeply. “I adore you.” They kissed Peggy next. “And I adore you. Thank you.”

“You're welcome,” Peggy said, tucking them into her side again. “Tell me how you feel.”

Bucky smiled. “Pretty. Sexy. Sleepy. I screamed too much. I love you both.” They giggled. “Still a little high.”

Peggy smiled indulgently, and kissed them. “I'll make you tea in a little bit, soothe your throat,” she promised. “And we love you, beautiful.” She stroked the soft chemise they still wore. “You need to shower and change, but will you stay in lingerie this evening, please?”

Bucky nodded. “I have a slip, if that's okay?” they asked. “It's pretty.”

“That's wonderful,” Peggy said, tucking them in beside her and stroking Steve's back and luxuriating in taking care of her beloveds.

They stayed camped out on the floor for a long time, giggling and kissing, talking about things important and not. Bucky rather obviously rested on their belly as much as possible, and Steve was proudly not sorry one bit. (He tried to fuss and kiss, and Peggy permitted him a few minutes, before chasing him back into resting, curled into her side. He didn't complain, and she moved up her 'make Steve the center of everything night' timetable considerably.)

Peggy rose to make tea for all of them, and came back to a flurry of touching and cuddling. Bucky got a shower and came back in a beautiful silk slip that just barely covered their bottom. Steve got next shower, and then Peggy and, slowly, they went about their evening, coming back to their cosy nest whenever they didn't have to do anything else. They shifted to watch TV on a laptop, Bucky laid out on their belly across Peggy and Steve's laps, and Steve wound up carrying them to bed when they drifted off, late that night.

Peggy got them both tucked in and Bucky's prosthetic off, then crawled in  with Bucky, as usual, in the middle. She pulled the quilt up and killed the lights, and snuggled up to their side, reaching over them to rest a hand on Steve's hip. As happened far more often that she'd ever thought possible, a fun bit of play had turned into something deeper, special, and she was disgustingly grateful for her life that night, as she drifted off in a big bed with her beloveds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


	18. sometimes in life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note -- in this chapter Bucky gets harassed for being visibly nonbinary. This occurs offscreen, but they and their lovers deal, a little bit, with the aftermath, and Bucky describes it in broad terms.

Bucky grinned and leaned against the doorway. Peggy and Steve were making dinner together, and it was a sight to behold.

Steve chopped peppers for a stir-fry while Peggy mixed the sauce, the two of them finding excuses to touch, to nudge each other when they came anywhere near together, to kiss when they could.

Bucky could watch them all day.

Or, apparently, join in when Steve noticed them in the doorway.

“Hey beautiful!” He abandoned dinner for the moment to come over and pull Bucky into a hug, kissing them very sweetly.

“You're in a good mood,” Bucky observed, Steve's arms already easing him considerably.

They had not had a particularly good walk back from the subway stop. Their own dumb fault, for wearing a dress in public. Even if it was the most fucking fierce thing in the borough.

“Mmmhmm.” Another soft kiss. “God, you're so gorgeous.”

“Are you _high_?”

“Yes,” Peggy called out. “Although not as much as he's pretending to be.” She giggled and came over, nuzzling at Bucky's throat. “We had a good day at MOMA is all. _And_ Elsie dropped some edibles off.”

Bucky laughed, one arm around each lover. “Please say you saved some for me?”

“We have _some_ manners, Jesus, Barnes.” Peggy gave them a searching look, and Bucky tried their hardest to convey _don't ask me don't just keep being happy._ Something must have gotten through, because she just kissed them, and handed them the remains of the cookie Els ie had gifted the household.

Bucky nibbled happily while the two of them went back to dinner – fajitas, not stir-fry, and they defrosted the tortillas as their contribution, and got passed from one partner to the other for kisses and cuddles as their other contribution. Their kitchen was all warm, spicy smells and Steve caressing their hip and Peggy tasting so, so good. And the sharp fear faded away and Bucky laughed and teased and flirted and they ate together in the fading light and abandoned the dishes for the next day.

Bucky was too unfocused and, to be honest, too tired for sex, but they curled up on the bed with dress shucked up around their hips and watched Steve lazily go down on Peggy. They were happy to reach out and caress her breasts, cupping one in their non-prosthetic hand and just admire as the orgasm came over her, slow and easy.

Steve wiped his mouth, and kissed Peggy's thigh, then nuzzled the spot a little. He reached down between his legs, groaning a little at his own touch.

“Hey, I wanna play,” Bucky teased gently, squirming to lay half on Peggy and wrap his hand around Steve's. “Lemme do this for you.”

“You sure?”

“Sure.” Bucky turned their head to kiss Peggy's hip while they jerked Steve off steadily. Nothing fancy, just making their lover moan, shudder, come. Bucky discreetly wiped their hand off before Steve wrapped around them and Peggy squirmed away just long enough to wrap herself around Bucky's back.

“What can I do for you, beautiful?” Steve asked, kissing Bucky's throat.

“Mmm. Too tired for sex,” Bucky admitted. Then, quieter. “Just hold me? Both of you?”

“Baby, what's wrong?” Peggy asked, nuzzling into their back. “You're sad about something.”

“It's dumb. You guys make it better.” Bucky sighed and relaxed between their lovers. “Everything'll be better in the morning.”

“It's not dumb. You looked awful when you came in,” Steve said, and cupped Bucky's face in his hands. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

Bucky had yet to figure out how to lie to those big eyes that looked at them with an earth-shattering amount of love. So they told Steve and Peggy about walking home from the subway, about the guy who had screamed at them, the names they'd been called. The way they'd ducked down a different street, made sure they weren't being followed.

“I'll fucking kill him,” Peggy growled, arms coming protectively around Bucky's waist. “How dare he. How _dare_ he.” 

“It's over,” Bucky said, closing their eyes. “Please drop it? Just...stay like this. For a little bit. It's not worth thinking about.”

“I hope you know we're staying like this all night,” Steve said tightly. He wrapped himself a little more firmly around Bucky. “And then we'll kill him in the morning.”

“Steve _stop_ ,” Bucky begged. “Don't. It's not...look. I don't want threats of _violence_. I want people to love me and  if they can't then to leave me alone and just...I don't want who I am to be a source of pain for you _too_ ,” they finished miserably.

“Good God, is that what you think?” Peggy asked, her free hand coming up to rest on Bucky's cheek. “Oh, sweetheart. My darling, you're so far from causing me pain.” She tilted their chin up for a little kiss. “You bring us joy. You know that, love.”

“Who you are is nothing but good things,” Steve agreed, rubbing Bucky's stomach lightly. “You're _beautiful_ , and kind, and you're an absolute, perfect joy.”

Bucky smiled a little, and head-butted Peggy's shoulder. “Love you both. Thank you. No more threats, okay?”

“Promise,” Peggy said, stroking Bucky's hair a little. 

Steve kissed their neck. “I want to hold you a little longer, but then d'you want me to braid your hair?” he asked.

Bucky smiled and nodded, a little overwhelmed. Their lovers were sharing the afterglow, what should have been theirs, and Bucky desperately tried not to be embarrassed at ruining the night.

No, not ruined, they reminded themselves. Not when Peggy (gloriously naked) was curled against them, kissing lazily, her breasts pressed against their chest. Not when Steve rubbed Bucky's stomach and kissed the back of their neck, and reached over to rest a hand on Peggy's hip, all three of them tight together. They hadn't ruined anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dietraumerei.tumblr.com


End file.
